Juxtapose
by nurseholliday
Summary: A collection of my drabbles from my tumblr thenurseholliday. If I missed any let me know and I'll try and find it and post it.
1. Drabble Prompt: Goodame

**So the beautiful mystical gooddame gave me a prompt. So I decided to write it especially for her because she's lovely and deserves all of the writing since she always bestows us with the best klaroline goodness. Her prompt was "THE COOLEST PERSON EVER JUST ASKED FOR A PROMPT. Klaus is assigned as a bodyguard for his last case before retirement to reluctant client erotica writer Caroline Forbes, who's fan has turned stalker Klaus is disgusted that her editor needs her last chapter done and that's more important than her life. Funny business ensues after a fight and he stalks out trying to hon in his baser instincts only to walk back to their shared room to an undressing Caroline."**

He was three weeks from retirement.

Three more weeks and he would no longer be at the beck and call of his father and the never-ending defensive ministrations that were common place for Mikaelson Protective Services. For 13 years he'd done everything that was assigned to him without fail.

Whatever was required, whatever was asked.

They had all started out that way. Elijah, Finn, Kol, even Rebekah. Their father maintained assured certainty that the only way that they could learn the business properly was to be a proper agent at the very bottom. Logically it made sense, and if it had been anyone else's father Klaus would have thrown himself into his tasks confident that the would arise to an esteemed position through the organization. But he didn't have anyone else's father. His father was Mikael Mikaelson, and nothing was ever as it seemed.

Finn left first, promoted to be the lead liaison for his mother. It served a double purpose, they could effectively manage the accounting operations for the business while providing his mother with a protective eye as she traversed the globe. Out of all of his siblings, Finn had always been his mother's favorite, and the feeling was mutual in regards to how the other Mikaelson children regarding Esther's cool and manipulative attitude. It was no hardship to let the position go to Finn, it was what he was suited for.

Next was Rebekah. Again, the position was ideally matched, Rebekah, though she was a nagging bint at times was beautiful, and she could charm a man within a matter of moments if she set her mind to it. Who better to be the public relations face of their company than an attractive young woman who knew exactly what she was talking about. Rebekah excelled immediately, contracts increased tenfold. Mikaelson protective services began to receive global recognition. It was one of the smartest moves the company could make in regards to their continued future.

Kol's leaving the force wasn't so much of a step up as it was a step sideways. Kol was a loose cannon, and though he attacked his tasks with violent fervor, he was sloppy, even dangerous. He did however have an unmatched talent when it came to mechanics. He could build anything, could transform even the most mundane household appliance into a weapon. After a particularly nasty event in Amsterdam that nearly landed the company in a grueling legal battle it was everyone's agreed opinion that Kol's talents should be focused elsewhere. They had never had a mechanical department before, but the addition of Kol to help create technical equipment and maintain modifications on their vehicles became a valued asset to their business.

Elijah and Niklaus were left. And it was Elijah's promotion that hit the hardest. Niklaus had worked for his father for longer, had done whatever was required. He'd done things that he wished he hadn't at his father's request. Their father always said that Elijah didn't have the stomach for it. The stomach to do what was necessary in order to maintain the greater good. He was right. Elijah's morality was like the suit he wore every day. It clung to him, visible to anyone who looked upon him. Nikalus was different. Niklaus was a bastard.

When his father had gathered them together it seemed to be an average conference regarding the next contract they'd received. Another person in need of help, another paycheck in the bank. NIklaus had not expected what would come next. Elijah's promotion to their father's position stung in a way that he would never be able to explain. It was a figurehead position, his father told Niklaus later that evening. Mikael would still be running the business, but Elijah would be the face behind the name now. A position that his father had all but promised him every time he gave him that sadistic smile and ordered him to do another unspeakable act.

And Niklaus?

Klaus would be sitting there taking orders as always. He'd be getting in fights, putting himself in the way of bullets, the one holding the gun and squeezing the trigger.

He'd never ascend as his family members had.

And he knew exactly why. Because he was not his father's son.

It had taken him months to get the courage to tell his father that he was retiring, and in the end, he didn't even have the courage to do it to his face.

Elijah was acting CEO now. And it was Elijah who, to the outside world would make the decision.

His father had fumed, but Elijah had understood.

So they agreed to a two month remaining contract that would ease him out of the business. Then he would be free. To do what he was not sure. He had no other skills, there was a time in his youth that he had painted, but those were the scratching of a child, and not a career to replace his current one. He had enough money stashed form some of his seedier deeds that he would be able to sustain himself for a while but never in the fashion that he had been accustomed to for so long.

He had not spoken to his father since Elijah had handed him the Forbes contract.

And that's when everything changed.

It was supposed to be cut and dry. An easy empty headed muscle position he could walk through until Elijah cut him his severance check and he could stumble into the world outside of the family business. An erotica writer with a stalker. It wasn't the first position that he had to maintain a masculine presence to warn off someone who couldn't take a hint. He'd done it hundreds of times before. An honestly a woman who wrote smut could easily find herself a clinger if she were particularly talented with a pen.

And was Caroline Forbes talented.

Yes, he had read some of her work. He was a professional after all, it was his job to understand why some chap thought some haggard spinster was worthy of jail time. He had read half of one of her novels, other than agreeing that the woman had talent he was amused. The things birds did to get their jollies. But he didn't judge, to each their own.

The picture in his mind was vividly clear. A mousy haired bespectacled lass with a penchant to avoid eye contact whenever possible.

Was he wrong.

Caroline Forbes had stalked up to him in her agent's office with fire in her eyes and a body that could turn even a priest into a sinner. To this day he could picture her, eyes wild, her hair haloed by the sun filtering through the open window, her porcelain skin clad in a summer dress that could only be described as torturously adorable. She was a vision, a vision that didn't appreciate his presence in the least.

"Thank you, but we won't be needing your services."

"Caroline." Stefan said warningly as he rose from his desk and ambled around the table. "Mikaelson's is the best in the business. We're lucky to get them. And honestly I don't believe you are safe as you think you are."

She wheeled around, hands bracketing luscious hips that Klaus gave no indication that he noticed though he most certainly did. "I am fine."

"He was in your house last night Caroline." Something passed between the two, something that Klaus recognized instantly as a fondness, one that he probably mirrored when he was with his own sister. Salvatore was obviously concerned for Ms. Forbes safety, and he had to admit that the continued time in her company he couldn't say that he didn't feel the same.

Silence ensued before she finally agreed. In the most begrudgingly obstinate way possible.

Klaus moved into the second room of her penthouse that very night.

It was supposed to be a simple project Elijah had claimed, one that he could waltz through with minimal effort and little care. That wanker was a sodding liar.

Caroline Forbes was anything but easy. She was stubborn, and rude, and reckless to the point that she drove him absolutely barking mad. She would leave the house without him, she had a penchant to leave the kitchen drawers in her living room open so that he'd smack his knees into them, and most of all she refused to do a thing that she was told. From the moment that he had been appointed Caroline Forbes protector she had been a pain in his arse. But he could not claim that she was an unwelcome one. It didn't take him long before he began to unravel her. She was loyal, and loving, and had a laugh that snaked its way down his chest into his stomach. Her smile, one of the few true smiles he's been able to garner from her beamed like a beacon of light. The five weeks he had spent with her he had long since categorized each of her many smiles, but her face splitting, eye crinkling, smile would forever be his favorite.

She also had an unnatural obsession with cookies the crazy bint.

And it was so ridiculously endearing that Klaus wanted to smash his face into something at how it affected him. What the hell was he thinking?

Caroline was the opposite of him in every way. She'd grown up with a loving family. She was soft where he was hard. Open when he was closed. The very definition of a mess battling for perfection. She wasn't for him, that he was perfectly aware of. They were too different, but he still found himself growing increasingly infatuated by her as each day passed.

He admitted to himself that he had opened her book again after he had actually met her, and before where he found amusement, he only felt heat. Rather the characters in her book Damon and Elena kissing passionately it was Klaus backing her against the wall. His mouth finding that spot behind her ear that made her shiver, his hands skimming the naked skin of her side, her hip, and lower.

It was as this thought crossed his mind that a nervous looking Caroline shouldered her way into his line of sight. He brought his eyes to hers, brow furrowing at her wringing hands and guilty expression.

They had managed to reach an impasse in regards to their behavior to each other, and Klaus could almost think that they were civil enough with each other to be deemed friends at this point in their professional relationship.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, suspicion being overshadowed by worry at her obvious distress.

"Ummm….. Yeah. So I kind of just got off the phone with Stefan." She said, her eyes trailing away from his own. She looked like an angel, standing before his seated self on the couch, her jeans so tight he felt he needed to send the designers a thank you note for the way her backside looked in them.

"And what did Mr. Salvatore have to say?"

She looked down, her chin almost resting directly at her chest as she moved her hands to rub nervously against the tops sides of her hips. Caroline Forbes was an open book. "He said he couldn't cancel the book launch tonight."

It took a moment for her words to sink in.

The obvious staring directly into his face as the hundreds of possibilities began to filter through his mind. No. The thought repeated in his mind with differing locations of emphasis.

He rose, slowly, his jaw set so tight that he thought his teeth might break at the sheer force he was gritting them. "Absolutely not." He ground out.

Her doe eyes blinked up at him, fringed by long dark lashes she looked almost innocent until the rage ignited behind her irises and her brows slanted into her frustration.

"Excuse me?!" She scoffed.

He took a step forward, angling his head and raising his hand between them. "It's out of the question." And with the finality of his biting words he stepped around her to move towards the kitchen.

If he had thought, she was going to for once listen to anything he had said, he was sadly mistaken. "Who do you think you are? You can't tell me what I can and cannot do? The book launch has to be tonight, and there is no way that I'm not going."

He wrenched open the fridge grabbing a bottle of water from the top shelf. "We are not arguing about this Caroline. The answer is no."

"It's cute how you think you have any say about what I do."

"You're being stupid Caroline. You could be hurt." He twisted off the plastic cap with more force than was necessary before draining a portion of the contents. His eyes flicked to hers momentarily and she looked as beautifully furious as he had expected she would.

"Don't you dare call me stupid." She seethed.

"And what do you call it? Going to an understaffed book launch, outdoors with hundreds of strangers who could bloody well be the chap who's trying to kill you."

"He's never said he wanted to kill me." She said hotly, and if he didn't have so much bleeding respect for her he'd probably be throttling some sense into her right now.

"No, he's simply tried breaking into your apartment four times since I came here and left a bloody message on your window saying that 'Soon the two of you will be together'. Sounds sane to me."

"You know what. I am not having this argument with you. I'm going. End of story." And with that the woman had the audacity to turn on her heels and walk away from him. He stood, gobsmacked as she walked her tight little arse into her bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

Good, at least she'd be safe.

She could hate him all she wanted as long as she never ended up at the hands of the man that had become obsessed with her. It became increasingly clear as time elapsed and the stalkers visits became more and more frequent that the individual who was committing these act was deeply disturbed. He left notes for her everywhere, and Klaus's appearance in her life had only further enraged him. He'd made threats, recounted stories about their future like they were memories. Klaus had already made a conscious decision that when his final three weeks elapsed and the man was not caught, he'd stay on. Free of charge if he had too.

Klaus had met men like the stalker before. And situations like these always ended up with someone hurt, even dead.

A vision of Caroline flashed in his mind lying motionless on the ground, blood seeping from around her. Alone, in the dark, in the cold.

Rage swelled again and he was crossing the living for her bedroom door before he knew exactly what he was doing.

The door crashed open, slamming into the wall behind it and causing the pictures to thud lightly against the wall at his assault.

"KLAUS!" Caroline screeched, snatching the long red dress from her bed and holding it in front of her nearly naked body.

Later he would reminisce about the curve of her waist, about the miles of long lean flesh of her legs, of the mouthwatering swell of her breasts pushed forward in a black lace strapless bra. But now he had to make her understand.

"Under no circumstances am I letting you walk out that door. I'll carry you back if I have too."

"Seriously, I am so tired of your caveman attitude I could actually scream. You are not the boss of me Klaus, you are my bodyguard. My hired bodyguard for that matter. And if I want to go to a launch party, then I'm going to go to my own launch party."

He stepped closer. Rage causing his shoulders to shake. "I am your bodyguard, which means I'm hired to protect you, which is impossible to do when you are acting deliberately foolish. You might as well paint a target on your head for all it's worth sweetheart."

Within a second she was toe to toe to him. The dress forgotten on the floor.

"Shut. UP."

"No. You are going to listen to me instead of being a bleeding child hell bent on getting herself killed."

"I am not a child."

He sneered, letting a mocking laugh follow closely behind. "That's the funniest thing I've heard all day love."

"Your unbelievable. I've had enough." She spat.

"Enough of what? I'm just getting started." He didn't even let her words penetrate deep enough before spitting directly back.

"Get out of my house. Get out of my life."

"Didn't you know darling; I'm not employed by you. Stefan pays my salary, so it's Stefan that has the authority to dismiss me. Hop into bed sweetheart. You're going to be here for a while." Why he had to resort to winding her up he had no idea, he just wanted her to feel one iota of the fury he felt at the thought of her in pain. He wanted her to have some care for her own safety, and of what it would mean to him if it was gone.

"I hate you."

"Hate all you want. You'll find that I don't particularly care. I don't get paid if you die."

Her hand flew, and it was an unconscious reaction to reach up and catch her wrist before it reached his cheek. Her eyes widened and she stared in horror at her upraised hand, inches from striking him. Fury dissipated, and she let her hand go limp as tears began to well in her eyes. She was horrified by her actions, and it was he that intentionally prodded her until he received a reaction.

He lightly pressed her open palm against her cheek, his eyes scanning across her fallen face. The feeling of her skin caressing his was like the sweetest caress. His eyes never left hers as the tension between them visibly dissolved and was replaced by something else, something unspoken that had been lingering between them for weeks. His opposite hand slowly rose between them until the pads of his fingertips lightly traced across her cheek.

Surely a touch, a simple touch wasn't against the rules. He'd only touch her face this once, just to let her know that this wasn't her fault, and they could go back to the way things were before.

His mind was screaming that he was a liar. But at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care.

"I…." He started, opening his mouth once, then twice in order to find the words. "I could not live if I knew that you'd been hurt."

Her breath rushed out of her in shock, and Klaus immediately took a step back at the sight. He'd gone too far. He'd revealed too much. _You should have kept your damn mouth shut, you twat._

It took him a moment to retreat. "I apologize, that was out of line…."

But if he knew what else he was going to say it was lost in the aftermath of her mouth pressing against his own.

He was lost.

He had dreamt of this moment for far longer than he liked to admit, and it by far exceeded every fantasy he could possibly conjure. In seconds they were clinging to each other, mouth searing, teeth nipping, tongues tangling as their arms tried to pull each other infinitely closer than they already were. Caroline's one hand was tangled in his hair as the other tugged on the necklaces buried in the open neck of his Henley. His arms were wrapped tightly around her, Pressing her near naked breasts against his chest. Trying desperately to get her closer, and knowing that he could never be close enough.

It lasted for hours and minutes. They stumbled backwards but still managed to stay upright as their hands explored and pulled and learned each other's wants and needs. She tasted like heaven, she felt like hell. He was sure she was the epitome of both angel and demon wrapped in one sinfully provocative package.

If he thought that he'd fancied her before, now he was completely bullocks.

When she pulled away his mouth instinctively followed her, until he met nothing but air and opened his eyes to a flushed Caroline.

Bollocks she was glorious.

Her long lashes flicked down then up in a way that would make the most schooled courtesan envious. He nearly groaned at the sight of her heavy eyes and her well kissed lips. He had every intention of showing her what being well kissed meant.

Her hands fingered the collar of her shirt as they both fought to catch their breaths.

"I was thinking…." Her voice was low, husky. Klaus was certain that he'd never heard anything so absolutely intoxicating. "…maybe you could come with me."

He recoiled, a little, but not enough to release her from the cradle of his arms.

"It still isn't safe, I'd be too far away to get to you in time." He barely recognized the sound of his own voice.

She smiled, and though Klaus didn't believe it was possible, he thought that this one might be his new favorite. "I meant WITH me."

It wasn't much, but it was a temptation that not even he could resist.

"You're going to be the death of me." He muttered as he gathered her tighter.

She brought her mouth back to his own. "I'll make it worth the trip."


	2. Day 18: Supernatural

25 Days of Klaroline - Day 18: Supernatural

 **A/N: Hope you enjoy this one. It's a little short but it was just a random scene that cropped up in my head while I was pushing snooze for the six hundredth time this morning. Let me know what you think please!**

The loud slam of the car door ripped her out of her catatonic state and hurled her back into the harsh cruelties of reality. Darkness flooded her swimming vision while her pulse thrummed wildly through her veins. She could still see Klaus's steely form silhouetted against the distant lights of town though he had stalked forcefully away from the now immobile vehicle. Even through the inky haze she could see the intensity of his thin frame combined with the fury that seemed to roll off of him in almost visible waves. It was a sight she had never seen before. Taking into account her best friends almost eerie handle on his emotions, Caroline never thought she would see the day where Klaus Mikaelson was anything other than completely composed. Yet here they were. Klaus's frustrated silence more powerful than any whispered curse or act of violence. The person standing almost statuesque in the foreboding night was not someone she recognized let alone spent the last five years in close camaraderie with.

This man terrified her.

To think her friend's uncharacteristic actions unsettled her most out of tonight's events was comical in and of itself. Her brother had insisted that she keep his gun, for so long she had teased that there was no reason for it. The tiny town she lived in rarely had any significant criminal activity especially something as disreputable as kidnapping. Until today she had never had a reason to touch the .45 menacingly mocking her from her hallway closet. Tonight was different. Tonight she had shot a man, a man who did not bleed.

Her hand shakily moved to the handle of her best friend's car and lightly opened the door. The tinkling sound of the keys still being in the ignition and the cool night air nipping at her exposed shoulders assaulted her already frazzled nerves. With a steadiness she did not feel she rose from her seat and gently clicked the car door shut. The moonlight danced off the gleaming black hood of her friends SUV illuminating the area directly around them. Her eyes caressed the shells of houses seemingly in disrepair and the mutilated mannequins that littered the barren street. A stale smell hung thick and tangible in the air and the only thing that Caroline could ascertain was that something awful had happened in this place. The loud crunch of gravel and Lord knew what else suffocated her as she passed an ancient skeleton of an upturned baby carriage.

Klaus turned around instantly as she cautiously approached him, his right hand snaking up to rake harshly through his hair. His gaze met hers after a moment and the murderous glint that had settled itself there melted into unyielding concern.

She must look like hell.

"Where are we?" Caroline asked softly shifting her feet nervously against the red desert rock beneath her worn slippers.

"Area 28." Klaus replied smoothly, his gaze shifting to the wasteland surrounding them. "According to the military this place doesn't exist, but the radiation should buy us a little time."

Several thoughts filtered through her mind as she registered his words; the first being that her best friend was keeping a great deal from her, and by the occurrences so far from this evening it was a lot more than just some military secret. As her mind began to race and she clung to her paltry rationalizations more and more things didn't add up. How did Klaus get to her apartment in the nick of time? How did he scale two floors and materialize in her barricaded bedroom? How did he even know she was in trouble in the first place?

Klaus knew something. He knew who those men were who had tried to abduct her, he knew the location of this nonexistent military warzone they were currently standing in, and he knew exactly what was going on. Why else would he be pacing back and forth muttering to himself like a madman? Caroline Forbes was far from being stupid, she couldn't boast for much in her life but she knew her best friend.

"Buy us a little time for what?" She ground out as her temper flared. Klaus conveniently ignored her question as he continued to pace heatedly, cursing occasionally and gazing expectantly into the distance. After what seemed like an eternity of stagnant silence where Caroline concluded he had no intention of answering she closed the remaining distance between them, clapping her hands forcefully onto his shoulders she managed to end his tedious march and bring his hard gaze clashing to hers. "Buy us time for what Klaus?"

The inner turmoil raging within him flashed over the angular lines of his features. A heavy, almost painful sigh rushed from him as he searched for his next words. "There isn't enough time to explain."

His jumbled declaration in his lilting accent was in no way a sufficient enough answer. They had never kept anything from each other before, and the stinging blow of a lie of omission was still fresh on her wounded pride. There was more than enough time to tell her what in the world was happening to them.

"Try. What the hell is going on? What were those things back there?"

An agonizing moment passed as they stared at one another, finally in a low indecipherable voice Klaus spoke, "Demons."

"Demons." Caroline responded dumbly letting the words seep into her as she repeated them. "Like Demon Demons?" She inwardly winced as the words fell clumsily from her lips. The thought ' _Eloquent Caroline'_ flashed briefly through her mind before she mentally chastised herself and focused all of her attention on the man standing before her. Right now she wanted answers.

The side of Klaus's mouth hitched up into his trademark lopsided grin as he surveyed her dumbfounded expression and she assumed was thinking near the same thing that she had only a moment before. "Are there any other kind?" On any other day, his teasing jest would be commonplace. If they were at the Mexican restaurant down the street from her house drinking Tequila or wrestling her drunken mother into bed it would be normal for him to throw out a witty remark about her peculiarities. Admittedly Caroline had more than most people, she tripped on thin air, she was obsessive over literature and she considered Civil War reenactments as a legitimate hobby. But this was no ordinary day, and they were not standing in her apartment discussing modern architecture or the likelihood that Chester Cheeto was by far the scariest commercial to ever be broadcasted.

"Then what exactly are you." She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer even when she asked for it.

He stalled. Staring at her with a tortured expression on his face. So much time passed as he inwardly battle with himself. She wanted to give him enough time to tell her himself, but she had never been very good at being patient. She opened her mouth, to quietly coax out the answer her question.

He cut her off before she even had the chance to begin. "I'm the Grim Reaper."

A beat passed. Then two. She opened her mouth once more to speak but she couldn't seem to find any words.

He continued. "The Angel of death. The hand of the devil. The destroyer. The hooded one. That's me." He was frustrated throwing his arms out to the side in a gesture that both begged for acceptance and dared her to rebuke him.

Caroline felt as if she was inside a glass box. Everything went numb as her mind flashed backwards. The constant absences, the miraculous strength, the fact that he never looked like he's aged since she met him five years prior. A numbness welled within her and she didn't even recognize the hollow sound of her own voice as she spoke. "You've killed someone?"

He smiled. A smile as equally hollow as her voice had been. "Oh sweetheart. I've killed them all."

A large roar exploded around them and the ground vibrated as if heavy machinery was being operated nearby. Together they watched as the faint faraway glow of town was obstructed by four black masses rising steadily on the horizon. The figures swelled and bubbled with a swiftness that was impossible for any human creation to achieve, after only moments the entity had reached such a magnitude that they were impossible to decipher one from the other. Seconds later the distant city was blotted out by the form, a buzzing sound rose on the night air increasing in intensity as time inched by. It was getting closer, it was coming after them. Klaus's eyes locked with hers, clearly assessing the horror that was unmistakable upon her face. After a millisecond of cold calculation he grabbed her swiftly by the arm before careening them into an asphyxiating tunnel of light. Only the telltale marks of their footprints imprinted into the unforgiving desert and the immobile profile of his car indicated they had ever been there at all


	3. Hybrid I

Hybrid II

 **A/n: I posted a oneshot yesterday called Hybrid. This is a companion oneshot to that one, it is based in the same universe and happens first. It is a futuristc/mutant/mates au, and I'm curious to see if anyone else is interested in this story. I've having a hard time on focusing on anything else.**

The sun burned bright white in the sky. The heat rising from the scorching sand wove suffocating tendrils around her. Bile rose in her throat as she gulped desperately for air. Sweat glistened on her skin, a bead trickling from the nape of her neck down between her shoulder blades. And the voices, the booming voices were screaming.

It was all too much. It was too bright, too hot, too loud.

Another bead of sweat journeyed from her temple along the side of her face. Idly she though that she should wipe it away but there was something pressing upon her. She struggled to move, to escape whatever held her but only the increasing panic rose within her.

Oh god, why couldn't she move?

A dull roar echoed from a distance and she knew, somehow she knew it was coming for her.

Within moments it hit her, a hurricane of wind tearing at her from every direction. Tiny hands whipping her clothes pulling her hair, scratching her exposed skin. She opened her mouth to scream, but if any sound escaped her she did not know.

The roar swelled to a deafening crescendo and all at once she heard it.

The thumping rhythm like the steady pulse of a heartbeat, repeating her name. Calling to her.

Caroline.

She came to with a start. Her lungs heaving as she bolted upright in bed. Terror coursed through her as she grasped around for her bearings. Taking one shaking hand she placed it over her hammering heart, willing it to slow it's pace. To calm itself and restore a semblance of normality. _It was just a dream. No. Not just a dream, a nightmare._

The same nightmare that had plagued her for as long as she could remember.  
It was always the same terrifying scene, the one she couldn't escape and couldn't fight. It simply overcame her. After a lifetime she thought that maybe she would have gotten used to it; but she hadn't, she couldn't.

As her heart rate slowed to its normal cantor she raked a hand through her matted hair. Her eyes danced to the illuminated red lets of her alarm clock lighting the room with a dim glow. 3:37 am. A Heavy sigh tumbled from her lips as the number stared back at her from her night stand. There was no chance that she would be able to sleep anymore tonight, and with the day that undoubtedly faced her she was in for a long one. She peeled back the worn flannel of her comforter lettering her feet sink into the lush softness of the carpeted floor.

Leaning over with a quick click she turned on her bedside lamp flooding the recesses of her room with light. Her eyes quickly scanned the contents. It was habit really, but now it was with a growing sense of fear.

She let her eyes drift closed, taking one more long reassuring breath. _It was just a dream. Just a stupid dream._

Pushing herself to her feet she tiptoed her way through the strewn clothes and shoes littering her bedroom floor. The door to her bathroom was slightly open and she pushed the wood the rest of the way blindly and fumbled for the feeling of the light switch. Her eyes revolted at the harsh light and her tousled reflection caught her discomfort.

Items littered the counter top. Makeup, b rushes, her toothbrush tossed haphazardly on to of a discarded shirt. One day she was going to have the time to get her life in order, today was not that day. A quick turn brought cold water running over her wrists. The liquid felt soothing against her tangled nerves. She took her time running th water over her wrist and arms before cupping her hands and splashing the cool water onto her flushed cheeks. Using the shirt she quickly wiped her face an hands before twisting the faucet off. With a toss behind her she discarded the shirt, her eyes finally locking onto her own in the mirror. She looked as unsettled as she felt.

 _It was just a dream Caroline. Just a dream._

Years of counseling had urged her not to give her dreams sovereignty. To not make them into something they were not. Dreams were simply our subconscious speaking to us, sometimes in the form of nightmares. Even reoccurring ones. With the right tools, they could be controlled.  
Caroline had done everything. She had done studies, dream studies, tried every medication known to mankind, hypnotherapy, but nothing worked. Some kept the dreams at bay for a little while, but they always came back.

She tore her eyes away from her reflection and pulled the mirror from the medicine cabinet before her. Along the lines of deodorant and razor littered a dozen identical pill bottles. Her hand automatically reached for one in the center before closing the mirror with a magnetic click. She rotated the bottle staring at the dosage for the high powered sleeping pill.

Her heart beat hard inside of her chest and try as she might she couldn't hear anything but her name screaming around her. She set the bottle down, not even sparing it a backward glance as she flicked off the bathroom light casting the room into darkness.

What was the point?

Sleep only brought it back.

Six o'clock came faster than she expected. With the T.V. droning on in the background she did her best to let her mind wander into the menial tasks of the day. It was safer, for her mind not to dwell on her nightmares. Instead she let herself focus on the eggs slowly cooking in front of her. She pushed the spatula under one of the eggs, flipping it in the pan and watching as the yoke broke and began to seep. With conviction she brought the spatula down onto the other eggs mashing the yoke until it broke to join the other. Scrambled eggs it is.

 _"Once again our southern border had been attacked. It is uncertain at this time who is responsible since no one has claimed responsibility but the border patrol assures us everything is in complete control and the terrorists have been neutralized…"_

With several fold onto themselves the eggs quickly reached their finish. Caroline moved toward the cupboard removing the lone snowman plate that had once belonged to her grandmother, the only thing she had left of her.

 _"…In preparation for next week Global Independence Day, President Silas has been busy traveling the nation. With press conference in Seattle and California it's safe to assume hat the presidential party has set its cap on another term for the election this November…"_

Caroline scraped her eggs onto the plate. The metallic ting sounded as she pulled a fork from her dish rack. She sauntered into her living room, plopping down ungracefully onto her patched leather sofa. The male and female's anchors matching smiles were nauseating. Their faces contorted into an unnatural cheerfulness as the weeks forecast blocked their visages.

 _"…tomorrow morning will be mostly cloudy but luckily by 1:00 o'clock the sun should be peaking around those clouds for a high of 59…"_

The rest of the week looked like rain, which was rare during the middle of summer. But if the sun could make its way out from behind the morning's thick cloud cover then so could Caroline's motivation.

With the last heaping mouthful of eggs she let her fork clatter against her plate. Standing she placed the dish and pan in the sink with the promise she would wash them later. There was just enough time to get herself ready before her alarm sounded and signaled it was time for her to leave. Shrugging her way into her black pea coat and wrapping a blue scarf around her neck to prepare for the morning inclement weather; she gathered her keys and pressed the button next to the door of her apartment, letting it fall into darkness. The lights all extinguished as well as the television fell into black silence.

She mechanically locked her deadbolt followed by her doorknob and turned to the deserted hallways of her floor. It was too early for the two other occupants to be awake on this gloomy Saturday. The boisterous Filipino family probably enjoying their lazy morning while the old man across the hall was most likely sleeping off another legendary hangover.

Her keys jingled quietly as she placed them into her left jacket pocket. She walked quickly to the landing down the flight of stairs to the main floor. As her shoes clacked their way across the speckled tile and carried her outside into the crisp morning air.

Cars buzzed by and the city hummed with the never-ending sound of life. In the distance the echoing sound of sirens wailed. It was typical day in New York City, bursting with life, conscious of the fact that it would never rest, and it would never sleep. She envied the city that. If only.

She took a right walking headfirst into the action, ready to take the trek to the nearest bus stop. Cold stung her cheeks and bit at her fingertips as she curled her hands into the sleeves of her coat. She should have brought gloves. When the wind whipped particularly hard she tucked her hands around herself hoping the warmth of her body would ward off the chill. It was colder than death outside and as she kicked up her pace her breath puffed out of her in small visible pants.

The red blinking hand was rapidly counting down to zero and she jogged her way across the line of car waiting patiently for the light to turn green. Kicking a can out of her way she hung a left hoping beyond hope that today wasn't one of those days the bus was ridiculously late. The less time she had to spend outside in this cold the better.

An alleyway bloomed onto her onto her right and quick glance from her peripherals quickly stopped her. A man curled tightly into a ball, his back resting against the filthy side of city dumpster. Newspaper peaked from the inside of the man 's clothes and nothing was visible through them man's matted facial hair.

He sat there, alone shivering.

Caroline's eyes scanned around her, first at the faces of the passing pedestrians, then to the vehicles cruising nonchalantly by. An undercover officer could be anywhere, anyone. But from the side of her vision she saw the man shiver again. Unwinding the scarf from around her neck she walked quickly into the alleyway. Within moments she was pressing the thick scarf into the man's hand.

His head snapped up. His gaze meeting hers with a pain she would never know. His calloused hand finally closed around the fabric as if finally realizing what was going on. Caroline snapped open her purse quickly grabbing a twenty and handing it the man.

"Go and get something to eat. Find someplace warm."

Tears welled in the strangers eyes.

"Bless you child. Bless you." She stood quickly not letting herself look back as she reemerged onto the sidewalk and resumed her trek. Nerves coursed through here as she popped the collar up on her jacket to try and salvage some of the scarfs previous warmth. Her eyes bounced from face to face, car to car as she walked, but each one remained blissfully ignorant.

When she finally turned the corner to her bus stop, the apprehension slowly began to trickle away. No one had seen her break the fraternization with vagrant's law. Today, at least, she was able to avoid arrest. It wasn't something she did often. The fraternization law was strictly enforced and Caroline wanted absolutely nothing to do with the police department. For most it was easy. An ugly sore on the street that was easily overlooked as they sipped their lattes and tittered on about their lives. Even for her there were times that it was easier to ignore. Safer. But then there were other time, like today…when she was all to conscious of the fact that they might be vagrants, but they were also human beings.

It was stupid of her. If she had been caught the penalties would have been severe. The police didn't ask questions. They simply detained by any means they deemed necessary, which usually resulted in a violent force that was completely repugnant.

She had been lucky this time. She could not be so foolish again.


	4. Hybrid II

Hybrid II

 **A/N: So I wrote this AU, it's like a weird futuristic/mutant/mate au. And I just got the idea last night and I'm in love with it sooo…. Here it is.** "Do you need any help?" Elena said from the opposite side of the fire, giving her a skeptical crunch to her brow as Caroline picked up both water buckets. "No I got it, but thanks." Caroline said, throwing a lopsided grin at the young girl who was jabbing a stick lazily into the embers before her. "If I have to come find you cause you are lost. I'm totally going to be pissed." "I'll be fine mom." She rolled her eyes, walking away from the comforting illumination of the camp fire and its occupants. The night was soft, illuminated by the pale erethral rays of the full moon overhead. The iridescent orb hung like the beckoning safety of a porch light leading her down the thin trail towards the river. The river wasn't far from their camp, but Caroline purposely took her time. After her time in the asylum, then now surrounded by her fellow outcasts it was an unexpected gift. One that she scarcely had the opportunity to seize anymore.  
The light chirping of crickets made an impromptu melody as her feet crunched against the gravel and the empty buckets swayed in rhythm dangling from her fingertips. With the final bend the vegetation thinned and broke into the rocky beach. The moon reflected like glittering black diamonds off the water's surface. The rush of water babbling across rocks was a peaceful lullaby from the shouting voices of camp. She closed her eyes, letting the cool air tease the loose tendrils framing her face. The sound, the freedom, the bliss of solitude; she memorized every sensation. With a heavy contented sigh she let her eyes drift back open. The metal of the bucket smacking against the rock was alien as she bent down to collect the first bucketful. As she knelt crouched she angled the bucket at varying degrees a, entirely different sensation rippled through her. Every hair on her body stood on end, the gooseflesh rising as another tingle rippled through her. She knew, she knew without even having to turn around. Klaus. She stood carefully navigating the now full container to a flat spot against the rocks careful not to spill. She did not search for him with her eyes. But she felt his presence as if it was reflecting off of her skin. "I know you're there." She said dryly as she reached for the other bucket, and stood. There was no response. His lack of reply coupled with the irritation she felt of being so hyper aware of his presence made her spin around. He stood behind her, feet standing on the rocky shore without the faintest sound. He was staring directly at her, his eyes delving into her own. A shock this time coursed through her and she shoved it away. Still they battled, and fury at his audacity began to rise within her making her spine feel as if it was forged with steel. It became too much. "What is your deal?" She snapped. He blinked as if surprised she had the ability to speak let alone to him. Everything else faded away as she focused her anger on him. The water ceased to run its course, the crickets muted in eerie silence. Even the trees were frozen in terror of what they were about to witness. He licked his lips, his mouth opening as if he were searching for what he intended to say. It had to be quite the feat considering as he had nerve spoken a word to her before now. "I was not aware that my behavior was classified as problematic." His lilting accented voice cracked like lightning through her; even though he spoke softly it pierced through her skin. Out of the two options, never knowing him speak and having him standing across from her throwing out a quip to her exasperated jibe, the latter was infinitely worse. It took her a moment to recover, to shake the tiny voice in the back of her head telling her to run as far away as her legs would take her. "Well it is. So just leave me alone." She turned, kneeling back down with the other bucket dipping the dull metal into the stream. "Seeing as this is our first conversation. I find your inference that I've been bothering you curious." He sauntered sideways, maintaining equal distance away from her but moving in an arch towards the shore. She shot him a sharp glare. "You know exactly what I am talking about." His cheekbones where sharp, the shadows of the moonlight making him more dangerous, more menacing. His presence that was already stifling her in the open air growing ever more imposing as time ticked forward. "So I was not mistaken after all." She shifted the back end of the bucket in the water allowing more to seep over the rim. It would be better if she simply ignored him, then he would leave her in peace and she could get a better control over herself. "I almost didn't recognize you. It's been so long since I've heard your tale that I had given up hope." She tipped the bucket up with a jerk, her irritation getting the better of her. The cool liquid sloshed precariously as she slammed it onto the shore standing at her full height. "What the hell are you talking about?' They had never met before, she… She stopped herself before her mind wandered down a path more dangerous than the one leading to the river. "Back when I was young it was called Bashert. There is no real words that describe it's true meaning now. I had thought that it had been forgotten…" "Again. What the hell are you talking about?" His eyes met hers burning even in the dark. He took a single step forward, heat zapped through her and she stumbled back. He murmured the word again. "What does that mean?" "It can closely described as two halves of the same whole." Silence wept between them. "You're high." "Not in the least." She gripped both handles and heaved them up, marching carelessly back up the bank towards the mouth of the trail. "Then you're crazy." "Also untrue." She spun around to face him to find him hot on her heels. The proximity, the fire that it created caused her to take a step away. "You have to be crazy, because you just told me we are some twisted version of mutant soul mates." "I would not have put it so indelicately." He said simply, making a mockery of her notion that this, whatever this was, was just some sort of sick joke he was playing on her. "Right." She said, sarcasm dripping like venom from her lips. "This is real life, not a movie, not a fairytale. There is no such thing as soul mates. Or unicorns. Or Dragons." "Of course there is. We have transcended the bounds of human limitations. How is the ability for me to create fire from my hands more believable to you then that we are fated?" She opened her mouth to argue before the force of his logic stopped her. The things she'd seen alone were enough to classify her as a lunatic. Yesterday, she had watched a small girl throw a man twice her size with only the power of her mind. Not once had she questioned the powers that the people encamped here possessed. She had seen them, she had felt them. The world was not what she thought it was. There were Hybrids. But she was not one of them. "Well I'm sorry to break it to you but I'm not one of you guys." He tilted his head, the move oddly graceful as he took a step closer to her. The urge to scatter was all consuming but she forced herself to hold her ground as his eyes caressed her face. She could feel the answering hammer of her pulse in her temples as if it was a physical touch. "Is that so?" "Yes." Yet you were held at the asylum?" She shook her head, the water clapped loudly in protest and she worked to steady her balance. "It was a mistake. I was picked up on an accessory to vagrancy charge. They just took me to the wrong place." "And you believe that?" He said skeptically. "That an institution that runs the government, that has hunted us down for centuries made a blunder like that?" Doubt welled with her. "I… I'm not like the others. I don't have any powers." "If you weren't like the others…" He lifted his arm between them, hovering. The air sizzled and if she were to close her eyes she could hear it's hypnotic crackle. "This wouldn't be possible." Alarm bells rang in her head as the smoking tendrils of need began to pull at the frayed edges of her control. She took a step back, hoping that the physical distance would lessen the strain. "I don't feel anything." The words sounded hollow as they dripped from her,. She cursed as a flash passed over his face. One of a deeper knowledge that surpassed thought. He knew. He knew she was lying. "You've felt it. The loneliness." He said matter-of-factly, shifting a step to the left. "The yearning for another. The emptiness and dissatisfaction of each boy that doesn't fill that void." She scoffed. "Welcome to being single." "No, it's more than that." "You're unhinged." "It painful isn't it? The pull? I step closer to you and the ache lessens, but it never leaves. You are fighting it. Fighting it rather successfully and I want to know how. Because I cannot find the strength." Silence rang between them, his face was raw with his emotions. "I do not know what you are talking about." In reality, she felt every single word he spoke. How eloquently he was able to put the unexplainable connection she had to him into words. As if he had burrowed inside of her, and could feel the racing currents coiling within her, begging her to relents. Perhaps he could.  
She took another step up the trail. One, then another. "I'm going back to camp. She turned, making every effort within her to start walking and not to look back at him. "Good night Caroline." Pain seared her as she fought to get further away. Away from the ache. Away from him. 


	5. Hybrid III

Hybrid Part III

 **A/N; Hey everyone! I wrote something, this is an extension of two previous drabbles I've posted before called Hybrid. It's something that was originally a Klaroline drabble but I've been writing pieces of it with my own original characters. It's a Mate, mutant, immortal Au. You can find the other posts** **post/124172903272/hybrid-ii** **and also**

 **post/124071157042/hybrid** **I miss you all, and thank you all for all your continued support even though I've been missing for a while. ILY.**

An undeniable shock arched through her, she could feel every molecule on her fingertips as if they were vibrating with life. "You've got to be kidding me?" She exclaimed, more to herself than to the figure she knew without a doubt stood behind her. She turned on her heel setting her hands on her hips in irritation. "What are you doing here?"

Of all the reactions she could have imagined to be set upon his angled features, barely masked fury was not one of them. It made her falter a bit as he spat at her, "Are you quite finished trying to get yourself killed?"

Caroline rebounded quickly, matching his anger lick for lick. "Why the hell do you care what I do and don't do? You made your point, I'm setting myself up for a suicide mission. At least my conscious will be clear."

Klaus took a step toward her, stabbing his finger in the air between them to make his point. "You're being reckless."

It would have been better for her to keep her mouth shut, but she was finding more and more that she was not particularly good at that nomenclature. Here stood an immortal man with a power that could kill her where she stood. In an instant he could take the upper hand of their exchange and force her to behave accordingly. His weakness was that he never would, not with her or anyone else, and they both knew that. "Again, none of your damn business."

"I beg to differ." His face was hard, emotionless, and solemn. It was unnerving to see his face twisted into something other than his usual perfectly rehearsed carelessness. Everything about him was unnerving. She chose to change the subject rather than try and rationalize what his presence in her brother's home meant.

"How did you know where I was?" She asked.

He shook his head, rolling his eyes at her as if she were ridiculous. She wanted to throttle him, to ship him off to Indonesia, or Madagascar or anywhere in the universe other than where he was currently standing. "I knew the minute you left the camp."

She understood his meaning without having to hear him explain it. She didn't have to ask him what it was that he meant because she felt it. It was strange, as she moved farther and farther away from the compound and what she had thought was his physical presence the annoying buzzing in the back of her mind began to dissipate. "Right. You're still on your 'whatever you called it kick.'"

"It isn't a kick." He said hotly taking another step forward, his jaw set in a tight line.

The reemergence of his presence irked her. Those few miniscule hours of peace had felt like three days of perfectly uninterrupted sleep. Klaus's presence had been a constant irritation, like a mosquito bite on her brain that she couldn't for the life of her scratch. It was always there, reminding her of exactly the one thing she refused to accept. Having a respite from that presence had been wonderful and even now moments after its absence she missed it. Caroline lashed out, she didn't care that she was acting childish she wanted to cause him even a fraction of the discomfort she felt now. "Are you sure your safe, all the way away from your safe little hideaway where no one will ever find you?"

Klaus didn't blink as his answer echoed through the dim room like a gunshot. "I am not afraid."

"Sure you aren't." Caroline snorted, turning her body to the side.

"I am livid." He continued.

Her eyes snapped back to his, her arms crossed over her chest. Creating yet another barrier between them. Fury resonated in every syllable that dripped from his lips. "Really?"

"Quite."

For the life of her, she couldn't allow him the satisfaction of chastising her like a child. Not when in the very depths of her soul she knew she was right. "This should be rich. Go ahead. Enlighten me to the depths of your anger."

At her admonition he moved forward, descending upon her, unleashing his thinly reigned frustration. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it was for you to come here? They are searching for you. You've put yourself and countless others in danger. You were told to stay at the compound as much for your safety as everyone else that resides there."

She matched him, hit for hit, fire for fire. It was a war, a battle that waged between them that she had no intention of losing. Lifting her chin in the air she took her own step forward holding her ground. "Now you are concerned about everyone's safety. Where was your sense of righteousness earlier? Besides, I never wanted to put the others in harm's way. Which you would have known if you would have heard what I was trying to tell you."

He was seething as he spat his response. "You assume that because I choose to keep everyone alive I do not care about them."

Caroline bounced back without a single misstep. "No I think because you and the rest of them wouldn't even try and listen to what I had to say, you care about nothing but saving your own skin."

"Funny. I was under the impression that I could not die." The Titan deadpanned tossing his arms out to the side as if to indicate that the point was obvious.

"Then explain what you are so afraid of." She opened her palms up to him, daring him to give her an explanation that would give justify his decision. Elijah, The counsel, and Klaus were hiding information and it was going to get them all killed.

"Death is not the only thing worth fearing. You learn that as the years pass. Only a child believes that death is the worst thing that someone can inflict on another."

Whether he knew it or not, he landed a direct hit to Caroline's strong righteous stance. She inwardly recoiled from the wound. For a fleeting moment she thought he could feel the glance his blow had left on her, his gaze softened and she recoiled at his sympathy. "I am not a child." She said, her words packed with vehemence.

"You could have fooled me."

"You are telling me you aren't afraid you might die right now?" It was an honest question. One that she genuinely wanted to know the answer too. It wasn't just the fact that she was one hundred percent human. Ordinary. Mortal. It was that for all intents and purposes Klaus was afraid of something, and anything that could cause an immortal man to feel fear was something she wanted to take care to avoid. Not everyone can stand in the face of adversity. Each person was different, each story unique. As much as she would like too she could not fault him for not wanting to fight, a few weeks ago she would probably have made the same decision. Yet she could blame him for hindering those who wished too. It was her decision to make, and she would not let him take that away from her.

There were several beats of silence. As if he wasn't certain on whether he should say what was currently waging war inside of his head. "The only thing I'm conscious of at the moment, is that out of the two of us, your mortality is entirely more fragile than my own." When he finally managed to put into words his thoughts they were painfully soft, and she hated it. She wished he would yell at her again. The anger was easy, familiar. That she could deal with. This mutual civility was unraveling the barely clinging threads of her control.

The world could have imploded around them in the length of time that those words hung stagnant between them.

"Me." She said incredulously. "This is about me?"

He did not respond. His silence spoke for him.

"You do not understand…" he finally started, but she broke across him slashing her hand through the air.

"No I don't think I do. If you thought 'forbidding' me to do something was going to stop me you don't know me very well." Her chest was heaving, her eyes wild. Is she were him, she'd be afraid.

"I'm beginning to see that."

He took another step towards her but she held her ground. He was too close for comfort, but she refused to relent. Not over this, she lifted her chin to him in defiance.

"I'm not someone's possession to order about blindly. If you think that, you are as deranged as I first thought you were. You've been alive long enough you should have some pretty solid hands on education that a woman's position has changed over the years."

"So I should not fear for your safety?" He queried intently. His lids lowered a fraction of an inch as his gaze shifted away from her own. She watched as they traveled along the curve of her cheek, the bridge of her nose, the span of her forehead. Her skin crawled and she wanted to smack him for his audacity.

"What I do with my life, is my concern." It was more than just words. It was engraved on her very skin. It pumped through her veins. An exasperated sigh escaped him.

"You are not the only one capable of being stubborn. You will find that I have a significant many years more practice." He chided. His words, though significantly sharper had not recovered his same biting potency it once held.

"I think I can hold my own." Sarcasm oozed from her voice. The ringing words did not amuse the man standing before her.

"Except your stubbornness will result in your demise." She wasn't ignorant enough to believe that his words couldn't possibly be accurate. Whatever he believed, she wasn't a child and wasn't naive enough to understand there was a likely chance she wouldn't walk away from the asylum again. In the case of her second capture she doubted they'd be kind enough to let her back with the others. They'd kill her just so they wouldn't have to explain to the other prisoners what Caroline had done. Maintaining control took finesse and showing a weakness to the right people was enough to give other's ideas. Ideas like they could think for themselves, that they didn't need there handler in the first place. Something even the compound had mastered.

"It's better than staying at that place."

"How can you say that?" He seemed puzzled by the inference that death would be a better alternate than passing her life littered among the others. He could not understand, because he had always been free.

"I didn't escape from the asylum to be put into the same prison with different bars." A quite charged with meaning descended upon them. Caroline thought that perhaps he was beginning to understand what she was trying to say. That maybe, just maybe he would finally relent to her point and let her go.

"So that is your plan then. Go in, get yourself killed, achieving absolutely nothing. Brilliant. Inspired if I might be so bold." Apparently she was wrong.

"Go to hell." She fumed, turning on her heel and marching down the hallway out of her brother's kitchen.

"You assume I'm not there at this very moment." He supplied. The fact that he was hot on her heels made her even angrier until she thought she'd start frothing at the mouth.

"Leave now." She growled. She was done with this conversation, she intended to get what she had come for and go. Mr. High-and-mighty could do whatever he wanted, she didn't care in the least where he went as long it was away from her. She launched open the door to her brothers bedroom stocking over to her sister in laws dresser and ripping open one of the drawers. She was furious that he followed her in, and try as she might she couldn't ignore him, she didn't have enough fight left in her. He had stolen this from her, the nostalgic feeling of being back in her brother's home, of watching movies on his couch, of stealing his slippers. This was hers. These were her memories and he was here, destroying him.

"Now look who's giving orders? Come now, dazzle me with your plan to bring down an empire."

"Let's gloss over the part where you pretend to care what I have to say." She ripped out a black button up blouse from the top drawer before slamming it shut. She opened the next one down, she didn't have the patience to be careful. Luckily her sister wasn't obsessively neat. She wouldn't notice her drawers were rifled through.

"You wanted me to listen." Out of the corner of her gaze she saw him throw his arms to the side to indicate she had his attention. "You'll find that I'm all ears."

She turned, eyeing him disbelievingly. He looked earnest, challenging, infuriating. She gritted her teeth in anger as she pulled out a skirt. She couldn't tell what color it was, but judging by the dark hue of the fabric it would match the black of the shirt. She slid the second dresser drawer shut. The silence was deafening.

"Fine." She said her top row of teeth pressing hard into her bottom lip as she delivered the forced word. She moved towards the closet, flicking on the light and thumbing through the hanging clothes.

"I'm waiting." She rolled her eyes, but did not turn around to face him.

"My sister in law works at Whitmore, has for the last ten years." There wasn't anything suitable for over wear, the long coat that Cami would usually wear over her business attire was missing, and she assumed that she had it with her.

"Convenient but I don't see how that could be enough reason for you to get yourself captured." Of course he wouldn't, because he hadn't let her finish.

"She's the head of Asset protection. She has access to absolutely everything that could possibly be a security threat to that company. I used to go to work with her when I was younger, spent a lot of time in her office goofing around." Memories welled up behind her eyes and she blinked them away. Forcing the down, now was not the time to remember better times.

"So you are familiar with security, the layout." He filled in.

"I know how to get in. I look a lot like my sister in law, she's shorter than I am but no one's going to notice that if I go in late at night which won't be too unusual because she always works crazy hours. I know where to go to get information, information we can use to find a way to stop them."

"What exactly do you think you are going to find?" And that was the million dollar question. One that not even she knew.

"Anything. Security codes, guard schedules, building blueprints, why the hell they are holding us hostage in the first place. What they are trying to accomplish? Someone has to do something."

"And that has to be you." He pressed again.

"Point me in the direction of another volunteer." Was her exasperated reply.

"Do you think you are the first person that has tried to bring down Whitmore? Many of us have tried over the years and all of us have failed."

"And yet, instead of sharing what you know and helping you choose to keep it hidden. I care about getting those people out of there. If Whitmore falls at the same time so be it." Why couldn't he see it? She was never going to stop trying to get the others out of the asylum. Not as long as she had breath in her body. She had argued her point, she had told him what she knew, and instead of acting with understanding he had halted her at her every move. He was not joking when he said he had more practice with stubbornness than she. He was proving it.

She could see that now. As long he was around he would try and stop her. She wouldn't give up, but she could not continue on the way that she had. There had to be another way. Another way to achieve her goals without his interference.

"I admit. Your deduction isn't entirely disastrous. It doesn't diminish from the fact that it's too risky." Her mouth was probably resting on her brother's carpet. Did he actually agree with her? It was a small concession on his part, and she intended to take full advantage of it.

"Sure there is some risk, but there are over a hundred people in there praying that someone is going to come and save them. I'm not going to let them die that way. You don't know what it's like in there. Those people didn't ask for this." The wall she had built keeping everything at bay inside of her cracked. The words seeped out of her like the pounding pressure of water spraying through a gap in a damn. Her words laced with emotion, with her pain. With her passion. "They are in there, laying in their beds wondering what the hell they did wrong. Why they were born different. They don't know if they're going to live or die. If they are ever going to see their families again. There are children being punished because they're afraid and they can't control something they don't understand."

"You say that it isn't worth it, my life for theirs. Keep in mind if it wasn't for someone taking a risk you would never have found me." It was the first time she had every acknowledged it with words, what he was so desperately fighting her for, what she was desperately fighting to hold back. She was his mate, and he'd move heaven and hell to make sure that her heart continued to beat. "Would you deprive someone else of the same chance?"

He closed the space between them, wrapping his long fingers around her wrist and carefully bending her elbow up between. She was stunned at the pain that was arching through her body, the pain of not giving in. She gritted her teeth as he slowly brought his nose to her palm inhaling her scent deeply, other than the gentlest of touches from his fingertips he did not touch her, but it felt as if he was everywhere all at once. When he opened his eyes they were blazing. "Why do you fight it?"

"I don't feel anything."

"Liar." But the word dripped form his tongue softly, tenderly, as if it was endearment. He shifted closer, letting their bodies become unbearably close. She looked up into his eyes, into the raw unaltered emotions marring his beautiful face. "Let go." His voice was ragged, painful tugging on the firm hold she had tightly woven into a knot inside of her chest. "Please."

The room vibrated, or perhaps it was just them. She couldn't focus on what was going around her any longer. The rest of her surroundings grew fuzzy as if she were peeking out the corner of a pair of prescription glasses. Klaus's face had sharpened to a striking brilliance. She could count every single one of his eyelashes, see every fleck in his unfathomable blue eyes.

"Please." It was unbearable whisper. Whatever it was that was inside of her was screaming for her to relent. To drop her defenses that she had never known existed until he became a constant enigma in her life. She could feel it just as she knew he could. The pull, the unidentifiable force that was rioting against the claws she had hooked into it. It was straining to him, to do what he asked. She was so close to letting go when he stepped away, he looked out towards the windows of the living room as if he'd seen something. Suspicion flooded through her as she craned her head to follow his line of sight. His face had turned stoney once more, no indication that they had had anything other than a normal conversation between them only moments before. "We've stayed too long. They know we are here."

"How–?"

"They know we're in the city. We need to get back to the compound quickly or we won't have the pleasure of watching you play the martyr." Caroline straightened her shoulders at his cavalier tone. It was better that he acted as if nothing had happened. It would only make it more complicated if he were to continue to press her for something she could not give him.


	6. On the Line

On the Line.

 **A/N: So this is a request/gift to the lovely ravenclawslibrary who is lovely and wanted some phone sex action. This is the sequel to the other call but, like years in the future after they are established. Hope you enjoy. You're the cutest. SMUTTYNESS.**

He was gone again.

For someone who claimed that New Orleans was his 'kingdom' he sure had a habit of leaving it, and her behind. In all honestly, if he would have let her come with him to Italy this time around there wouldn't have been a problem.  
But no. She mocked him as she took the pins out of her hair one by one.

Listening to them ping of the wood of her dressing table. "it's not safe Caroline, you could get hurt Caroline, I'm only doing this to protect you Caroline."  
Seriously though. It's like he forgot that she was Vampire or something.  
Because she was a Vampire, and she was more than capable of handling herself.

Come on, she handled him every day. A few witches with something to prove was like a prom committee at this point. As many times as she's tried to explain to him that she was a big girl, and that she was going to do whatever she wanted regardless of what he said, he would not quit.

They had fought when he had informed her that Elijah and Rebekah would be accompanying him to Italy. Caroline could help. She knew that she could. She had proven herself over the years that she was every much as useful as Rebekah was whether she was a billion year old vampire or not. The argument ended with no clear winner, just a slammed door and a message that screamed 'find a couch to sleep on because no'.

Like a normal person, she assumed that they were going to continue the conversation like adults and talk about why she should be allowed to come. So when she had awoken this morning to find the house emptier than the Lockwoods cellar she was pissed.

No, pissed wasn't even a strong enough word to describe how she was feeling at the moment.

Irate. Murderous. Vengeful.

He thought he could just leave without a word and she wasn't going to retaliate?  
Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

So she had plans. Plans to make that over protective, infuriating, pigheaded, psychotic hybrid learn his lesson for once in his life.

Basically she was going to visit Enzo. Without telling him. Which wasn't the super cataclysmic death defying revenge that the witches currently were concocting but it served many purposes.

1) Klaus hated Enzo with a passion that burned in his soul even though she'd described to him at least a 1000 times that they were just friends and nothing was ever going to happen between them.

2) His stupid control thing, where he's not in control and freaks out.

3) He won't know where she is? Which ties in to number 2.

4) Did she mention #1?

Sure she loved the idiot, but every once in a while he needed a solid reminder that she was Caroline Forbes, not some blonde bartender who thought she had a particular relevance over than serving as her replacement.

She. Was. Queen.

And someone needed a little reminder of that.

Now the only thing to do was leave in the morning. Her bag was packed, her tickets bought, and in a few days she'd be rubbing Klaus ridiculously attractive face into the fact that though he liked to act like it HE DID NOT OWN HER.  
She undid the belt of her silk robe, letting it gape open and then slither off of her shoulders to a pool on the bathroom floor. The heavy brass knob squeaks as she reaches forward and turns it on, the rush of hot water pouring against the ancient porcelain loud enough to drown out her thoughts of revenge. Palming her phone in her hand and waiting for the water to fill she clicks on the icon for her music, ignoring the six unread text messages staring back at her and pulling on the tendrils inside of her that wanted to talk to him.

She might be out for revenge, and done with his shit, and furious at him for being an idiot, but he was still her husband who was currently on another continent and well…she kind of missed him a little bit.

The lilting cadence of Florence and the machine begins to echo around the massive room and pleased with her choice she sets the phone on the large tray holding her soaps. With one perfectly arched foot she takes a step over the rung letting the water engulf her as she sinks down. The heat seeps into her undead skin, giving her the warmth that she still remembered from her life. The tub is cool against her shoulders, but as she settles herself in and her body begins to adjust to the temperature she sinks lower.

Time slips away as she let's herself daze, it starts with a simple thread of thought. The glory of her planned punishment for his actions, how he would be begging her for her forgiveness at his foolishness. It wasn't long before it twisted, and morphed into a nagging hollowness in her navel.  
Klaus. So maybe she kind of missed him a lot.

And maybe she kind of wished that he was there with her. His chest wide, perfectly contoured to her body as he pressed against her back, arms looped loosely around her waist as he spoke endearments into her skin. He loved bathing with her, loved washing her skin, holding her close in the heated water, making love to her as the water sloshed over the side, splatting loudly to the tile floor. The splashing water and their desperate moans the only sound surrounding them as they lost themselves to bliss.

It honestly didn't matter where that man had sex, he was a god.

And he knew it too.

The smug bastard.

But it was more than just his sexual prowess that she craved at that moment. It's his silent presence as she lay next to him in their bed. To listen to the steady rhythm of his breaths. Waking up with his arm slung over the small of her back and his face mashed into her pillow. The husky sound of his voice in the morning which she literally couldn't resist if she tried. They had spent 15 years together now, with little time apart, and well… she didn't think she'd ever get used to it.

Did it make sense that she was going on an unannounced holiday without him then?

No.

Sometimes she was a hypocrite. At least she admitted it.

Howl started to sound around her and at first she swayed to the music before realizing that it wasn't the next song at all, but the repetition of her phone ringing.  
Klaus's ringtone to be exact. Her heart thumped in her chest.

Should she?

Swiping her thumb across the screen she brought it to her ear. "I see you're still alive." She said tartly in lieu of a greeting.

"Are you disappointed sweetheart?"

"Kind of yeah."

"Now don't be cross with me love. It was…"

She broke across him. "If you say it was for my own protection I will literally murder you."

"Impossible, you know I can't be killed."

Caroline closes her eyes as she listens to him with her vampire hearing over the phone. A door clicked shut behind him and she could hear the shuffling as something got tossed lightly onto what sounded like wood. He was probably back in his room by now. Some elaborately posh place that he owned for like three hundred years and had a ornately carved balcony that he would spread her across and make love to her till she screamed his name.

That might have been their honeymoon. The memories trickled over her, her hand slipped under the water trailing down the valley between her breasts. The sound of his voice heightening the arousal she had already felt prior to answering the call.

"Caroline. You know how I feel about you putting yourself in danger."

"Yes Klaus, we've had this argument a hundred times. It's not your decision to make. We're supposed to be partners and you just leave me behind like I'm some fluffy little puppy that's afraid of its own shadow. Which I am not."  
"I know you are capable of handling yourself. I do. It's just…"

She could not handle this right now. She stood, the water sluicing down her as she hoisted herself out of the bath tub.

"Was that water?" Klaus asked as she bundled a thick towel around herself and walked towards the door connecting the bedroom.

"Yes."

"I'm assuming since it's raining outside you were in the bath?" Her eyes skirted to the windows to see the heavy droplets of Louisiana rain. She rolled her eyes, a traitorous smile breaking across her lips.

"Does your stalking have any boundaries? Like any at all?"

He gave her a husky laugh and it slithered through her like electricity, shocking her straight to her groin. Moisture began to pool there and she resisted the urge to moan, or scream in frustration, or whatever.

"A warm bath on a stormy night. I prefer to watch you bathe in the moonlight, your skin positively radiates under the light of the moon. I wish that I was there."  
She picked up her jacket from one of the chairs, tossing it to the side.

"Well you're not so…"

"Was your hair up while you were bathing? I love it when your hair is pinned, you have one of the most sinfully elegant necks I've ever seen love, It's pure decadence against my tongue."

She halted as she began to sink into the chair. Was he really doing what she thought he was doing?

She grinned as she caught her reflection in the mirror. Using her free hand she untucked the edge of her towel from her breasts and let it hit the floor. The cool air caused her nipples to pucker slightly and she resisted the urge to audibly gasp at the sensation.

"No. But I'm going to put it up right now."

"You look marvelous either way sweetheart, I'm just remarking that it makes it easier for me to access your ears." It was like she could feel it, could feel his teeth dragging along the shell of the ear his voice was filtering through. Her breathing grew heavier. She reached to the top of the dressing table winding her hair up and securing it with a messy clip.

"You ears are so sensitive. Sometimes, I think that my tongue in your ear could make you come."

Oh my god this was really happening.

She hummed, trailing her free hand over her abdomen, looking at herself reflected in the thick glass.

"Something I've longed to try, perhaps I shall upon my return."

Her hand wandered up, over one of her breasts squeezing it. She willed her mind into thinking it was his hands caressing her body.

"Not likely. I'm mad at you remember."

"That's right, what can I do to acquit myself." She didn't answer, just let her hand wander across herself. She pinched the nipple between her fingers and a breathy sigh escaped her at the sharp pleasure jolting through her. He continued, his silky voice weaving her into a hazy dream. "I'd touch you. Softly at first. On your breasts, your thighs, the sweep of your back. I'd touch you until you begged me to touch you where you really wanted it."

She kneeded her flesh harder. The phone was becoming a bit counterproductive. She took it from her ear. Her eyes scanning around until they landed on their bed. She padded across the carpeted floor crawling on the counterpane and sinking into the thick feathers pressing the speaker phone button and laying it next to her head. She could smell him there, his heavy scent lingering against the sheets. It surrounded her, adding to the fantasy he was weaving her with ever whisper of his velvet voice.

"I love your skin. It's the most exquisite work of art I've ever laid my eyes upon. You come alive when I touch you love. When you're arching underneath me. Begging for me. It's a power that I've never known before. The power to give you that kind of pleasure. The power to make you sing."

Her back arched slightly off the bed, her hands leaving her breasts slowly, molding over her curves, floating down her body. Klaus didn't stop.  
"I'd touch you until you needed more. Until you're whole body was drawn so tight that it was painful to continue on without relief."

Her fingertips traced the tops of her thighs, dancing over the silken skin.  
"And then I'd kiss you. I'd kiss you until you were mad with need. Do you want that Caroline?"

The way he said her name, it had never failed to DO things to her. Now was no exception. She tried to keep quiet. She really did.

"Are you touching yourself sweetheart?"

"Yes." She panted softly. His shuddering breath in her ear made her nipples tighten to painful peaks.

Her hand feathered into the small smattering of curls between her thighs before they finally dipped into her dripping heat. A moan of satisfaction dripped from her lips as she began to massage circles into her aching clit. His voice grew rough. "And then when you couldn't stand a moment more, I'd bring you to your feet…"

Her breathing was getting sharper as her legs spilled out, opening herself to the room. She felt empty, god why wasn't he inside of her right now?  
"Then I'd look you directly in the eyes, as I lowered myself to my knees before you."

More. She thought as her climax began to build inside of her. Her mind constructed his face. Of him kneeling before her, eyes blazing with unrepressed desire. The most powerful being in the world, The King, on his knees for her and her alone.

"Then I'd taste you." The sound that escaped her was between a yelp and a moan as the vision of his face pressed between her legs, his stubble scratching at her thighs as he tongued her. Oh god she was getting close. "There is nothing in the world as delectable as the taste of your cunt Caroline. I could spend hours between your legs. Worshipping you."

She pushed one finger inside of herself.

It was coming. It was coming fast.

"But you'd have to look at me Caroline. If you look away I'll stop. I want to watch you come. I want to see you fall apart above me."

"Klaus." She pleaded as she thrust another finger inside of herself, she'd lost control of her actions. She was wild. Her hips rolling of the bed. Her fingers fumbling for more. Her loose hand pushing her breasts to relieve some of the tension wound inside of her.

"Come for me sweetheart." And she did. She sobbed as her release swept her up and rode her over the peak. The pleasure was acute, painfully blissful. Masturbation had never been quite as intense of an experience as sex was, but this, this was more. Dazed she listened to his breathing until she heard his groan of his own release, her name spilling from his lips and around him.  
It took a while for her to grasp her wits back about her. Her heavy pants mixed with those of Klaus washing over her from over the phone.

"I miss you." He finally said his voice raw and filled with emotion. She felt her heart squeeze.

"I'm still mad at me you know."

He gave a tiny chuckle that made her skin hum and a smile tug at her lips. "I'll make it up to you when I get home."

Her plan came full front to her mind.

Well, maybe she had forgiven him a little bit. Enough to tell him.  
"You'll have to wait. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Caroline." He growled, his voice laced with warning and suspicion.

"I'll be back in a few weeks. But I want you to think about what you've done and if you ever do it again, you'll be the one daggered in coffin." And with that she picked up the phone and hit the end button.

Her head fell to the side, her naked silhouette staring at herself in the mirror. A satisfied smile broke across her face.

He was probably losing his mind right now.

Good.


	7. Imaginary

Imaginary.

 **A/n: Hello everyone! I know it's Klaroweek and I'm not sure what the prompts are for today but I got this idea today and It just kind of came out. Anyway. Let me know if you guys like it. Or yeah…**

 _*FIVE YEARS OLD*_

"It's easy see I'll show you. You take your laces like this, and you loop the one like that…"

Liz Forbes peeked around the corner of her daughter's room, curiosity piking inside of her as she listened to the five year olds angelic voice. The tiny girl sat in the middle of her floor, surrounded by an array of dozens of dolls and stuffed animals. Sun filtered through the open window lighting where her daughter sat as if she were sitting under a spotlight. Dust danced through the rays, heat simmered across the pavement outside. The scene was set as if someone had meticulously crafted it, the only discrepancy was that where someone should have sat, patiently watching as Caroline explained how to tie a shoe, there was only emptiness. The tinkling bells of Caroline's voice continued as she spoke to the room around her.

"It kind of looks like a bunny. See?"

Liz let her eyes survey the other corners of the room on instinct. Her police training coupled with the level of protectiveness she felt for her daughter causing her to make sure there wasn't someone secretly there. There was nothing. Of course there was nothing.

"Caroline honey, who are you talking to?"

Caroline's large blue eyes jumped to her mother in surprise, her hands suspended above the white fabric of her sneakers.

"My friend Mommy." Before turning her attention back to the task at hand and continued to narrate the correct way to tie a shoe.

Liz let a smile tug on her lips as her daughter tittered on. She turned back towards the kitchen, there was always dishes to be done. Oh to be young again.

"I think Caroline has a new friend." Liz said later that evening as she sat across the dinner table from her husband. He had been late getting home again and she had long since put Caroline to sleep.

Bill wasn't phased by Liz's admission. His hand made a sawing motion as he cut his steak into pieces. "Oh yeah?" He murmured through the mouth full of food.

Liz wrinkled her nose as she laced her fingers together on the table top.

"One of the neighbor kids?" Bill continued, picking up his beer bottle and taking a drugging swig.

When she didn't reply he finally stopped enough to give her a questioning glance.

"An imaginary one."

Bill gave a little laugh, before spearing a forkful of potatoes and shoveling it into her mouth.

"Yeah? What's her name then?"

"She calls him Klaus."

 _*SEVEN YEARS OLD*_

They were screaming again.

Their voices echoed off the walls of the house, into the deepest corners. There was no escaping it inside. Caroline's mother's voice was so shrill that it pierced through the skin straight to the bone. It was all they did anymore. Yelled, fought, screamed. He didn't even know what they were fighting about anymore. They fought simply to fight. They fought so they could revel in their own misery. With no remorse for dragging them into it.

Caroline sat crossed legged on her bed with her blanket wrapped around her and her bear in her arms

The night was warm, summer was still in full swing, but she still wrapped her blanket tighter around herself as she attempted to hold herself together. The light was off in her room, but she couldn't sleep, who could sleep with all of that yelling.

Klaus watched her. Watched as the tears spilled over onto her pale cheeks. Every time the fight would reach an elevated pitch she would flinch as if it was a physical blow.

"It's okay Caroline. They'll stop soon."

She didn't answer him. He'd do anything to take her away. From them.  
She pushed a fistful of hair out of her eyes as she looked at him, his legs crossed mirroring her own.

The screaming grew louder. "WELL MAYBE WE WEREN'T MEANT TO BE TOGETHER BILL."

The sobs of her mother coming in between the piercing shrieks.

She buried her face into the white fur of her bear. Tears coming faster now as her body began to rock back and forth.

"Someday." He promised hers. "Someday, all of this is going to be over.

Someday, we're going to go somewhere that they couldn't get us."

Her tiny voice whispered into the air. Unheard by all except the crickets chirping incredulously in the black night and him. A sad melody mixed with the cracking tears in her voice.

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

* _NINE YEARS OLD*_

She sat on the swing, her pigtails bouncing behind her as she pumped her legs back and forth trying her best to get higher.

"They think something's wrong with me." She said as she continued to push the ropes harder.

Klaus's heart clenched a little as he watched her. He worried, she was brash sometimes. Reckless. It was easy to get caught up with her enthusiasm. At nine years old, it was easy for him to get caught in his friend's mischief. He was only a boy after all.

"Why on earth would they think that?"

"Because of you." She had reached the top of the swings allowance and finally she let go. He watched her, he watched her fly through the air in slow motion. Panic lacing through him as she hit the ground and rolled.

He was scrambling after her before she had completely stopped. "Caroline!"  
She propped herself on her elbows, rolling her eyes. "I'm fine you big baby."  
"You need to be more careful. You are acting foolish."

She scoffed before flopping back down on the grass staring up at the brilliant blue of the sky. He followed her lead, laying so that his head rested next to hers, his hands folded over his chest.

"It's because of you."

Confusion spiked through him. "What is?"

"That they think something's wrong with me. I overheard Mom talking to Dad on the phone yesterday. I'm too old to still have an imaginary friend, they want to go get me checked out."

"They're barmy."

She sat up. "I know you're real. I just don't understand why I'm the only one who can see you?"

"Because that's just the way it works." He hadn't been giving much information the day he was brought to Caroline. Being five years old he had remembered very little of what the primly dressed woman had tried to explain to him. He was to be Caroline's friend and constant companion, only Caroline's. No one else would see him. Over the four years that he had been with her he had learned only a little bit more. He couldn't move anything. He couldn't touch anyone. And when she wasn't thinking about him, she couldn't see him. But he was there. He was always there.

"The other kids at school call me crazy."

"They're imbeciles."

She looked hesitant. "Maybe I should stop talking about you. I can tell them I don't see you anymore. It'll be our secret.

Another wave of panic clawed at him. He didn't like this idea. He didn't like this idea at all. He didn't know why. But it was what Caroline wanted. Then he'd go along with it.

"Sure. Sounds okay to me."

 _*THIRTEEN YEARS OLD*_

Time seemed to go slower after that. With each year that passed Caroline's time with him grew more and more scarce. It was always precious when she'd look over her shoulder and give him that smile that could rival the sun.  
She had turned 13 without thinking about him. He watched as she unwrapped her presents, squealing over a new pair of shoes. He looked on in contentment. Watching each day pass where she became more confident. More beautiful. As a 13 year old boy, he'd be blind not to notice.

Caroline had always been his best friend.

Caroline had always been his.

As the party began to wind down, the two other girls left for home. He followed Caroline as she carried the large armful of her presents into her room. Scattering them on the bed without a care for their state. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as she unscrewed an atrocious shade of nail polish and began painting her toes.

He moved his hand to scratch his face and staggered back in horror.  
It was faint. Minute. Barely. But he could see through his hand.  
He shook his head. Then his hand. He grabbed it. Fear racing through him as he stared at Caroline. Blissfully oblivious to his presence.

Good god.

He was disappearing.

 _*SIXTEEN YEARS OLD**_

It had been 3 years, 9 months, and 16 days since Caroline had last seen him. Had last thought of him. Had last wanted him to be around.

He looked on helpless. Each year that passed made less and less of him visible. He was fading away.

He was fading away because she was forgetting him and he was powerless to stop it.

He looked on in agony. Agony. He could not think of a better word.

Caroline had grown more and more beautiful. Each morning without fail she would emerge from the bathroom and his chest would ignite. She was stunning, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and somehow, in the course of his 16 years he had fallen in love with her.

Perhaps he had always loved her.

With 16 came new firsts. She got her first car, her first cell phone, and much to Klaus's disdain, her first boyfriend.

Needless to say Klaus hated him.

Tyler.

He was the most pompous, arrogant, smarmy bloke Klaus had ever seen.  
He didn't deserve Caroline. Not even in a thousand years would he come close to deserving her.

It had been three months since Tyler and Caroline had become official when it happened. She came home later than usual. He didn't follow her anymore when she went out with him. He couldn't stomach it. She flew through her bedroom door, flinging herself onto her bed, tears wracking her body. He stood immediately.

She cried, and he felt every heavy sob.

Her pain was his pain. It had always been.

He sat on the floor. Head in his hands. Trying to will some of his strength to her. Trying to send everything he had to comfort her. He pressed the palms of his fading hands into his eyes and he listened to her sob in her pillow.

It happened like lightening. Like the hottest spikes of electricity igniting like fire over his skin.

All at once he knew.

It had been so long that he had forgotten what it felt like.

He was stumbling to his feet in a second.

"Caroline?"

She lifted her head from her pillow, her eyes meeting his. The sweetest taste of relief he had ever felt raged through him. Like he had finally come home. He looked at his hands to find them solid.

After all of this time.

He spoke again. His voice cracking. "Caroline."

"Klaus?"

He sat on the bed next to her. Memorizing every plane of her face, every dance in her eyes, the way her lips parted ever so slightly as she looked at him. He wanted to remember every moment of this, every moment of what it felt like when she looked at him.

"I fell asleep." She shook her head.

"No. You aren't asleep it's me. You finally remembered."

She wiped the backs of her hands over her eyes, but they did not stop falling.  
"I forgot about you. I haven't thought about you in…"

He didn't answer, he couldn't. His throat swelled heavy. Finally he spoke.

"It's been a long time." He said carefully.

She sniffed, but didn't say a word.

"What happened?" He said softly.

A fresh wave of tears spilled over. "I thought he loved me." She broke. She told him everything, how Tyler had cheated on her, how he had humiliated her. She cried, her face pressed into her pillow, her blanket tugged tightly around her just like when she was a little girl. How anyone could think to want another person after having Caroline baffled him. She was iridescent. She was perfect in all the ways she wasn't perfect.

Klaus had always known that he loved her.

But until this moment, he never knew how much.

He soothed her the best he could, with his words and his voice. "If I were out there Caroline. He never would have hurt you. I wouldn't of let him. He's just a boy. A smalltime boy with a small town life ahead of him. He won't be enough for you anyway love. You deserve more. You deserve everything."

"I wish you were real. You would be the perfect guy. I love you Klaus." She whispered behind closed eyelids.

"I love you too Caroline." He had never meant words more.

He spoke to her until she dozed, her breathe coming even, her eyes still swollen from her tears.

He reached out, his hand hovering over her cheek. He slowly lowered it, praying to feel something, anything.

He felt nothing but air.

He never hated his plight quite so much in his entire life.

 _*EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD*_

She had done it.

He had known she would do it. Always did. Top of her class, valedictorian, head cheerleader, chair of the mystic falls beautification committee. Caroline Forbes was the whole package.

That's my girl. He thought as with a beaming smile he watched her walk across the stage to accept her diploma.

He had began to fade again the next day after that night two years prior when she had remembered him. Maybe she didn't recollect it, maybe she thought she had dreamed it.

He had prayed, prayed every night since she had told him she loved him, that she'd remember, that she'd see him. But she didn't. He continued to fade, and she continued to thrive.

Caroline took center stage, giving a little wave to the photographer and the place that her mother sat teary eyed.

A crack jolted up his spine and his eyes snapped to hers.

She blinked a few times, as if she didn't really understand what she was seeing. And then all at once she understood and gave him the smallest of smiles. A smile that was meant for him alone. She knew he was there for her.  
He'd always be there for her.

The grin that split his face was all consuming. But it was short-lived.

Everything became too intense, too loud, the ground became to shake and Caroline walked away. Didn't she feel it? It was like an apocalypse, like the end of the world. He screamed, but knew that no one heard him but he screamed none the less.

And then there was nothing but white

He blinked against the light. It was too bright. Too much. He blinked, his head pounding as the world began to once again get focus.

He blinked.

His eyes met a familiar face. A primly be speculated woman that he had not seen in 13 years.

She sat behind a neatly organized desk. He sat across from her. Other than that the room as empty.

"Well done Mr. Mikealson. You've completed your assignment wonderfully."  
He stared. Trying to grasp some semblance of his sanity. "My assignment?"  
"Yes. You've stayed with Caroline until she's forgotten you. You've done your job as her companion. You're fully dissolved now."

Caroline. Where was Caroline?

"What? No. She hasn't forgotten me. We just saw each other? She saw me a moment ago."

"I assure you Mr. Mikealson, that isn't true."

Fury rose within him.

"This is ridiculous how do I get out of here?"

"And go where?" the woman said sharply.

"Back."

She gave him a tight smile, her fingers folding together in her lap.

"There is no going back Mr. Mikealson."

"What are you talking about?"

"From now on you will reside here, with the rest of the forgotten."

"The forgotten?"

She motioned for him to stand, and stared at her expectantly waiting for her answer.

"You didn't think you were the only one did you?"

She motioned again and he stood.

He couldn't shake the feeling roiling within him. Something wasn't right here.

Something was very seriously wrong.

Whatever this place was, it was endless. The forgotten consisted of mostly children, but there were a few older companions closer to Klaus's age. It was one in particular Klaus was keen on finding at the moment.

He turned a corner, leaving a gaggle of guards behind him, banking over into the laundry facilities.

A pillar of smoke rose from the person standing in the shadows, and Klaus walked forward slowly to make sure they were alone.

They didn't speak for a long time.

"What did you mean?"

The man stepped forward, his hair mussed, his brooding features tight. "About what?"

"About what you said. About a way back?"

The ripper smiled, an amused, volatile smile. "I knew you'd be interested."

"Is it real?"

The Ripper laughed this time.

"Now that depends."

Klaus could feel his ire rise as every moment passed. At any moment they could be discovered. At every moment they could be removed from the Forgotten and put into solitary with no way out.

"On what?" He bit out glaring hard at the young man in front of him.

"On whether you are willing to go to hell to get back to her."

Caroline's face swam through his mind. It ripped at his heart. Caroline. His Caroline.

"I'd die for her."

The Ripper smiled that unfeeling smile. "You might just get your wish."

They had to go together. Stefan, that was the Ripper's real name had explained everything. They lived in alternate planes of existence. Where they were now was called 'the other side'. There was only one way to get back through to where both Caroline, and Stefan's companion existed. It was through a place no sane person would ever dare to set foot.

Hell. They had to make it through hell.

Stefan's story was similar to Klaus's. The only difference was that while Klaus had faded, Stefan had not. Elena had spoken and interacted with him till the end. When they had finally cut Stefan there was no doubt in his mind what had happened.

They. Whoever they were. Whoever controlled them. Whoever controlled this place needed to be stopped.

They had taken nothing when they had left their rooms and met in an electrical closet. Stefan had been cultivating the plan to get out from the moment he had arrived. Had even attempted it a few times. There was only one problem.  
There had to be two people to make the escape.

He described the process in explicit detail. That the very last room. The entrance to hell there were two sacrifices needed. Two blood offerings from two people on other sides of a room. They had battled through all of it. Every challenge, every room, every facet until he stood face to face with his urn, knife in hand.

Stefan gave him the nod, and without another thought he pressed the knife into the flesh of his arm. Blood welled over, splattering against the urn with thick droplets.

The room began to shake. He could barely make out Stefan from a few feet away.

Flames suddenly consumed him.

His flesh melted from his body.

He screamed.

He screamed at the agonizing pain wracking him.

He screamed until he could no longer scream any more.

And then there was nothing.

Nothing else.

Nothing but black.

The sun was shining brightly as Caroline bounced her leg sharply against the grass. She had two term papers that needed to be done. TWO. And she was not even close to be being a tiny bit prepared.

Like not even a little bit.

If she thought that college was going to be as much of a breeze as high school had been. Well… wrong. She was just ridiculously wrong.

Other than the fact that she didn't have to worry about curfew anymore, College was nowhere near what it was cracked up to be.

Crazy Caroline was going out of her mind.

Seriously.

She might as well just go to her dorm, the birds were too damn distracting out here anyways.

She flipped her book shut with a loud thump. Huffing as she stood. She spun on her heel, shoving her book into her bag. Her eyes moving towards where her dorms were located.

She stopped as her eyes met the most hauntingly familiar blue ones.

"No." She whispered.

"Hello Caroline." He said, his hands in his pocket, his eyes shining brightly as they always did when he looked at her.

She pressed her eyes shut as hard as she could. Hoping that when she opened them he would be gone. She was too old to still see him. To still have an imaginary friend. She didn't want to be different anymore. She wanted to be Caroline and live her life, not spend it pining over someone who did not exist.  
She opened them and he still stood before her. Handsome. So handsome and so safe.

"This isn't real." She said, before turning as hard as she could and walking away from him.

She made it three steps before a hand stopped her.

The level of shock she felt at the electricity of his touch stopped her in her tracks.

She stood staring at everything and nothing before her as she focused on the feeling of the hand wrapped around her wrist.

It couldn't be his.

It couldn't.

She turned. Slowly. Disbelievingly. Her eyes fixed to where they touched. Finally they made it back to his.

"Caroline." It was soft, tender, the words dripping from his mouth like the silkiest of caresses.

"Is this real?" She asked, trying to grasp for reality.

He moved a step closer, his hand releasing hers and moving up to cup her cheek. The touch scorched her, it was too hot, too much. His forehead dipped to rest against hers.

"It's real. It's me."

She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be thinking, or feeling, or doing.  
The only thing she could think to do was to pull him closer. And without another thought she kissed him. The world around them stopped, suspended in time as her mouth moved with his.

She pulled away, put left her hands cupping his neck. She didn't want to let him go.

She didn't want him to disappear again.

Not for the rest of her life.


	8. Drabble Prompt: Barista

A/N: Drabble Prompt. Hi! I saw this AU prompt on tumblr and thought itd be so cute for a klaroline drabble. But its "im the barista and youre the obnoxious costumer who comes through and orders a venti macchiato while talking on the phone the whole time so i misspell your name in increasingly creative ways everyday" Thanks!

He was back. Of course he was. It didn't matter how awful her day was. He was always back. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself as she prepared to deal with him.

Mr.-I'm-too-important-to-order-my-Macciato-without-being-on-the-phone. This asshole.

He extended one finger to her. Telling her without words that he'd be a moment while he spoke in that melodic accent to whoever he was talking to.

"I'm not sure that will be beneficial."

She heaved a huge sigh. He'd been coming in for months. Each time on his phone, each time annoying the shit out of her. Telling her between speaking on his phone endlessly. 'Klaus. K.L.A.U.S." Each time she spelled it wrong. Call it spite. Or maybe she'd call it don't be a dick.

Her fingers lashed out across the white cup before she moved over steaming the milk. Her mothers voice resonated in her mind. 'What are you doing in New York? Why don't you come home? You have so much potential.' But she wouldn't. She wouldn't let this fuckface or her mother break her. Whether she was stuck in a dead end job waiting for her break onto broadway or not.

She set the guys drink down, harder than usual, still fuming.

A minute passed. Then two.

"Excuse me?" An unmistakeable accent sounded.

She turned, irritation flooding through her. Her eyes met his.

"Is there any reason this says asshole?"

Her reply was instantaneous. "I thought the reasoning would be obvious."

It took him a moment after she spoke. A smirk tugged on his lips, before breaking into a brilliant smile. "What's your name?"

"I'd rather die of thirst then tell you."

His eyes flicked down before meeting hers again.

"I'll see you tomorrow Caroline." Her eyes flew down to her apron where her name tag contrasted stark white against the hunter green.

He turned coffee in hand.

She rolled her eyes.

Fuck.


	9. Happy Birthday Caroline

Random Klaroline drabble.

She received another rose today.

It should have bothered her that he always knew where she was. It was straight up stalkerish to say the very least. That year, after year, after year that passed he never once failed to deliver that one single flower and the small embossed card; his lilting black script leaping off the note.

 _Happy Birthday Caroline._

It should have bothered her.

But it didn't.

It had been 67 years since she had been turned. Over the years she had lost touch and reconnected with almost everyone at least once. Stefan and her usually tended to stay together, but there had been several times over the years that she had ended up alone. She had no idea where Elena and Damon where at the moment, and Tyler well… it had been a long time since she had tried to check up on him.

in 67 years she had learned so much about the world, about friendship, and most of all being a vampire. One of things she knew without a shadow of a doubt, Klaus Mikaelson meant it when he spoke those words to her. "However long it takes."

He also meant is when he promised to never return to Mystic Falls.  
After 13 years and 13 roses had passed it had come time for the Vampire gang to leave their home town, people were becoming suspicious, and it was the fate of every one of the undead that they had to move along at some point. That was a bittersweet part of this life.

Honestly she had thought that the minute that Stefan and her arrived in Chicago he would have kicked open their front door, or materialized out of one of their bedrooms, or repelled down from the ceiling. Klaus always had a flare for the dramatic.

But he never came, but a rose always did.

Every year.

 _Happy Birthday Caroline._

She had 66 cards, all saying the exact same thing in a box under her bed. As she awoke that morning of her birthday she had half expected for the familiar lush flower to be sitting on her bedside table. But it wasn't. She didn't let it bother her at first. They had arrived later before, once even at eleven. But as morning turned into afternoon and afternoon turned into evening without a single rose in sight her heart sunk.

Was this the year?

Was this however long it took for him to finally forget about her?

The pain was unexpected. Her chest ached, her eyes itching to cry her sorrow. As she watched her clock inch closer to midnight she double checked her apartment.

Nothing.

She was in her living room looking at the clock on the VCR when the time finally clicked to 12:01.

He hadn't come.

She was a fool. Did she really believe that he would pine after her forever? That he would wait endlessly while she went about cavorting around the world, engaging in love affairs and sating herself in culture. But wasn't that what he wanted for her? To see the world. To see herself?

It didn't really matter anymore. She had done this to herself. For the first time in 67 years, she felt like she was really alone. Somehow, knowing that he was always there, always watching, it had made things less lonely, more bearable, like she wasn't really alone because he would come if she really needed him.

He was gone, and she was the one to drive him away.

A sigh escaped her petal lips as she clicked off the light next to the couch and shuffled into her bedroom. Moonlight filtered through her open window and she could see the brilliant silver orb of the full moon watching her. As she folded back her covers and slid beneath the flannel sheets her eyes fell upon the foot of the bed. She froze as her gazed caressed the flower bathed in moonlight. Then she lunged, pricking her finger on a thorn as she brought the rose with her.

A single drop of blood welled up on the pad of her index finger and she forced the digit between her teeth to prevent a mess. The sweet taste of her own life force filled her mouth as her eyes devoured the words on the card.

 _Happy Birthday Caroline_

She could not even begin to express the happiness that consumed her. On a whim she flipped the card over, surprised to find another message penned on the back.

 _For whenever you're ready._

Confusion consumed her and her brow furrowed as she pondered his words. For whenever you're ready? Ready for what Klaus? Could he possibly be more cryptic?

Well he could have written it in Aramaic.

She placed the card on her nightstand, glad that her finger had finally managed to heal itself. She pressed the rose against her lips and inhaled deeply. Ingraining the scent and the feeling that consumed her into her memory.

A cool metal brushed her knuckles and she moved to inspect the stem of the rose in the dim light. An ancient key peered back at her, Skeleton, brass, small enough to go unnoticed among the flowers massive plume.

A key.

She didn't have any idea where it went too.

But for the life of her she couldn't think of a better adventure then to find out.

"You know, I've never been to New Orleans…"


	10. Au Week: Vikings

Vikings: Au Week Day 3: Adversaries

 **A/N: So I posted this even though I'm not a huge fan of it.**

The camp was alive that morning. It always was on days such as these.

The day that the hunter was chosen.

Every man, woman and child from the surrounding Clan's met to determine whose warrior would lead. Anyone was welcome to cast their hand into the ring, as long as they were able to fight and fight fairly. Every year the numbers grew, boys grew into men, certain that they could rise to the occasion. Many Vikings have stood to fight, and many of them fell.

Except for one.

One warrior from the Mikaelson clan, who had been her only competition for near five years. Now, on the cusp of a harvest moon they were to meet each other in battle once more. The final two to fight, and ascertain who would lead the forces this year. She had vowed that she would not fail. It had been a particular sting that he had bested her the year prior, and one she had no intention of repeating again.

She stepped into the ring, her armor strapped tightly to her body, her sword gripped tightly into her hand. He was already there, waiting for her, his sword hanging loosely at his side. That infuriating smirk twisting his lips.

"Ah, hello little love. I feared you had forfeited this year, finally realized that it was pointless to challenge me."

Caroline took cool calculated steps into the ring. Apart from Mikaelson's marked size advantage, he was slower than she was. He had also not learned that necessity for humility. His arrogance had been his downfall before, it would be his downfall again. "And rob you of the exercise? Why would I do such a thing."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, I happen to get plenty of exercise." His meaning was clear, and scowl at the lecherous grin that sprawled across his face. Winking at her, he shook his head in amusement as he lifted his sword lazily between them.

"Then perhaps I was hoping to further your instruction. With a little practice, you might even be a warrior." She taunted, watching his feet as he crossed his left foot over his right and took a calculated step to the side. She followed suit, mirroring his stance as they began to circle.

"Strange, I believe it was I that bested you last year."

She shrugged and brushed a thin curl out of her eye. "Yes well, even a blind squirrel occasionally finds a nut." Color stained the top of his cheeks as irritation settled upon his brow, she inwardly grinned. It was rare that she was able to penetrate her opponents reserve so quickly.

"Let's let the victor settle the argument. Here's to history repeating itself." And with that he flew at her. His sword soared through the air and she easily deflected the blow with her shield, dancing to the right in order to maintain the distance between them, circling, analyzing. It was not wise to strike first. He was headstrong, but it was a foolishly bold first move.

"At least you've learned how to use your sword, has your mother been teaching you?" His teeth gritted and he lunged again. He came too fast for her to dodge, so she dove to the side, rolling along her back and back up to her feet.

He was after her in a moment, sword flying for her steel to ring as it clashed against his. "Indeed, right after your husband, brought me my ale."

Fury raged within her as pushed hard against him with her shield before letting her blade lash out towards him.

"Oh, that's right. Who would marry the likes of you…" He continued.

They fought then, in earnest. The heel of Mikealson's sword bucking into her cheek bone. Her legs moving forward to buckle the back of his knee. With a well-armed swipe, he lost his shield, and he tossed his sword into his other hand as they circled.

"Pretty good for a girl."

She readjusted her grip, her head dipping to the side. "I could say the same for you." She lunged, and they fought anew. She had the upper hand, and she hit him heavy and hard. Her sword flying her shield pushing.

His crouched down in a whirl and kicked her legs out from under her. Her shield was inches to the side, but Klaus's was already raising above her sword positioned for the kill. She kicked her legs back and rolled onto her feet.

They moved as if swept into the sea, their bodies an endless sea of twisting and meshing. They fought for long, longer then they had every fought before. With renewed vigor they battled, sweat beaded upon her brow as her shoulders ached with the force of her blows. Klaus looked as winded as she, but if the sharp set of determination cemented on his jaw was any indication he was not going to give up without a fight.

His sword lifted up, swinging down at her. She brought her own sword up her sword vibrated by the assault. It held as he pressed down at her, and she knew, she knew that she was in the vulnerable position. He was taller than her, bigger, stronger, with sheer strength alone she would not win. A victorious smile gleamed into her face and she refused to accept it as her own defeat. With a show of strength, she did not know she possessed her left hand shot down grabbing her knife from her belt and flashing it to his throat.

The world stilled, the pressure from Mikaelson's hands above her lifted as the arena around them grew quiet.

He swallowed thickly against her blade.

Her lungs were heaving, but she was still able to speak. "Perhaps next time I'll get to fight a man."

She brought the knife away from his neck, letting her lips tug up into a smirk of her one.

To his credit he did not look as irate as she was sure he felt at that moment. He had been bested, and bested by a woman no less. He would have a lot to answer for when he returned to his clan. Instead he dipped his head to her, covering his heart with his fist in respect as he gave her a short bow.

She returned the gesture, sheathing her knife back into her waist.

She moved forward, the king was standing, waving his hands in appreciation. It was her duty to accept her new position before the representatives of the clans. She took a step, falling short as her opponent did not retreat to allow her through. She looked up at him, confusing arching through her as she registered the close proximity of their faces.

"I assure you," he said quietly, "the next time we meet, you will have no question on the state of manhood."

And like that he was gone, and she was left reeling as she walked to accept her prize.


	11. AU Week: All Human

Klaroline AU Week: Day 1 - All Human

 **A/N: I don't know what this is. It just kind of came out because I didn't have anything planned for today but I super wanted to contribute.**

Caroline Forbes had never been much for exhibitionism. 99.9999999999% of her image was the All-American clean cut pop singer with the beaming smile and the peppy lyrics.

That was before the whole Tyler thing.

More specifically the whole dating Tyler Lockwood, the lead of the ridiculously famous Vampire television show everyone was so obsessed with they couldn't stop talking about it, thing. That was before he had broken up with her of course, publicly she might add. Then it went to the pictures that somehow got taken of her crying, and when the pictures hit the gossip magazines the rumors began. Caroline was on the edge, suicidal, checking into rehab.

It was a break up for Pete's sake.

Wasn't she allowed to mourn the end of her almost year long relationship with a guy who she was sure she was very much in love with?

Not if you were a celebrity you weren't. People wanted to make money, and Caroline Forbes clinging to the edge of her sanity distraught over her ex was definitely the ammunition to do that.

Needless to say after the rumors began circulating her reputation took a hit. It was Katherine who came up with this stupid idea. That they needed to do something big to comeback to the spotlight with a bang. To prove that, her, she, Caroline Forbes needed no man. Relationship wise, that is.

So what better way for a singer to make a comeback then a brand new song.

One that Caroline never thought she'd have to resort to in her life.

Her eyes bounced around the rows of pews in the church teeming with film crew.

It was supposed to be edgy. The kind of thing that screamed "I'm so over you? Look how over you I am" to anyone who watched it. It was supposed to be a step up for her, for Sweet Girly Little Caroline Forbes to shed her All-american mold and rise as a dark seductress. There was only one little problem with this whole rouse. It wasn't going to work.

The whole flirty dresses and bubbly personality? that wasn't an act. That was the way she'd always been since she sat on the Mystic Falls Beautification committee. It wasn't as if she was perfect, she wasn't by any means she was naturally upbeat and optimistic. She never thought of herself as a femme fatale, the kind of girl she was supposed to be pretending to be right now.

There was no way she could do this.

"Caroline, we're almost ready for you." She took a shaky breath. Closing her eyes for a moments she tried to summon an ounce of courage. She failed. She failed miserably.

Kat clicked in front of her. Bluetooth hooked to her ear and body tightly clad in her little black dress. "Come on."

"I don't think I can do this."

Katherine had already turned and was leading her toward the confessional, so when Caroline didn't make a move to follow her she rounded on her tightly.

"You're just nervous. Their going to be doing far away shots first, they won't even see your face. It'll calm you down."

Caroline wasn't so sure. She gulped and reluctantly followed her manager. Hoping beyond hope that she didn't have a panic attack and ruin the entire music video. She didn't stop to prepare herself, just walked straight into the confessional's open door. Now all she had to do was wait for her costar.

Speaking of people with a reputation.

Klaus Mikaelson was the very definition of a bad boy. The kind of man that the media hated to love. He rode a motorcycles to premiers, never passed on an opportunity to party, would barely be caught in a tux, and had more woman throwing themselves at him then was mathematically possible. Well, she understood why. Bad boy status or no, she had eyes, and she'd had a chance to look at the guys face among other things.

Klaus Mikaelson was gorgeous. Not the clean cut muscular oiled and waxed way Tyler was. Klaus had something else, a presence she'd seen very rarely in her career on stage. It was an animalistic magnetism, one that drew people's eye to him even if he wasn't the focal point of the stage. It wasn't something that could be trained, it was something that you were born with.

So Caroline was supposed to get up close and personal with a man that seeped charm in the small contents of a church confessional.

The audience wouldn't even notice she was there.

Not with him next to her.

Seriously. This was such a bad idea.

"Sorry about being late sweetheart." Came a delicious murmur as the space across with her became crowded.

Her heart jumped in her chest as she looked at him, gracious smile, curly locks, gorgeous mouth.

"It's fine." She said quietly her eyes racing away from him as the camera crew moved the camera two and fro, taking a series of far away shots.

"Regardless, it's shockingly unprofessional of me so I apologize again."

"I didn't think you'd be the type of person to be concerned with punctuality." She said offhandedly.

He gave her a wolfish grin. "You've heard of me I take it?" A flush rose on her cheeks. "May I ask what you've heard to make such an assumption about my character."

He leaned a little closer to her, jamming his hands in his pockets. She deliberately kept her gaze trained on the camera crew. "Just what's said around. You've quite the reputation for ignoring the rules."

"Only some rules." He said simply. She let the silence hang between them for a moment. This was uncomfortable enough with this whole thing, there was no reason to make it worse. "You're one to talk. Are you really as frigid as they make you out to be?"

She couldn't even contain the scoff that escaped her. "Hardly."

He shrugged. "I'm just saying, you've got quite the reputation as a goody toe shoes. I see they didn't miss the mark on that one."

Anger pricked at his words, but she refused to let the irritation melt onto her face. "Everyone has their opinion. Not everyone is right."

"Then it's entirely possible that I find being late an abhorrent quality isn't it?"

She didn't mean to smile. She really didn't. "I guess you're right."

A voice called from the camera crew. "Alright guys we're going to start moving in."

Terror raced through Caroline and she felt like she might be sick. Right here, right now, all over Klaus freaking-apparently-I-like-to-be-on-time Mikaelson.

"Oh god I can't do this." she whispered.

His face tore to hers, at first set with utter confusion before morphing into something else, something that looked suspiciously like worry. "Can't do what? You look paler then death love."

"I'm going to be sick." She said her voice catching at the end as her breath started to heave in and out of her lungs. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to calm herself down, to push the panic welling within her away. Great, here Caroline? This is where it's going to happen?

"Whoa. Whoa. Hey, look at me." The words were gentle, coaxing, persuasive, and without her permission her eyes followed his command. She stared up at him, cornflower mixing with midnight blue, her chest still heaving, her blood still racing.

He brought his hand gently up to her cheek. "It's alright, just breathe. You're fine."

"This isn't me." She croaked, "I don't… I know it's stupid…. I just… I don't do stuff like this." Her hands were clammy, and she raked them on the rough fabric of her skinny jeans.

If he found her admission amusing he didn't let her know. Instead, his hand continued making paths along her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before trailing down the side of her neck.

"There's nothing wrong with having integrity. You know yourself, you respect yourself not to cross your own boundaries. It's a rare quality to find in someone, especially in this town."

Her eyelashes fluttered in surprise. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

"You don't think I'm being silly?" It was the first time that she'd chanced a look at him in awhile, and the way he was looking at her, with no iota of pretense made her stomach twist. Were here cheeks florescent red right now?

"Not at all. I think you're being you." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Actually I was glad to hear about your split with Lockwood. You were much to good for him, you know."

Her stomach uncoiled a fraction, as a small laugh escaped her.

"You don't even know me." she admonished.

"You don't have to know someone to think their lovely."

 _Hello. Heart. Are you there. Did you stop beating….. Could you start? Thanks._

"Uhhhhh…."

"Sorry, it wasn't my intention to make you feel more uncomfortable."

"No… it's fine… it's just that no one's ever said that to me before."

She looked down, her hands knotting together. It was easier this way. Easier to say things when she didn't see the way he could react to them.

"That's… impossible." Her head snapped up. Klaus's face was wracked with disbelief. "I'm sorry, but I find it hard to believe that no one has ever told you how absolutely stunning you are."

Her breath caught. The flesh of her arm raised, she was conscious of his hand still nestled lightly in the nape of her neck. Of his eyes boring into her own, of how deliciously close this ridiculously gorgeous man was to her.

"Lockwood must have been more of an imbecile then I thought if he never told you…"

She leaned closer, mesmerized by the look in his eyes.

"Told me what?"

"That you are beautiful. Strong. Full of light. It's hypnotic. It's not only in person, you can see it through the tele even. You beam. It's hard to look away."

Caroline had lost her voice. Had lost her brain. Had lost herself in Klaus's penetrating gaze. his hand moved again, sliding backwards to cup her neck.

"You're the perfect bit of heaven on earth. Like your smile alone can save a man from purgatory, from pain. You know the one don't you?"

He leaned closer, his nose mere inches from her own, his opposite hand moving to press against the wood directly nest to her waist. _Was she breathing? She didn't think she was breathing._ She gave him a little shake of her head.

"Not your fake smile mind you. Your real one, where your eyes crinkle at the sides, where you become iridescent. I've seen it, in pictures, at awards, but I can only imagine what you could do to a man if you directed it solely on him."

Her body was on fire, her nipples tightened painfully against the thin cotton of her black tank. She couldn't for the life of her catch her breath. Klaus had painted the most vivid picture with his words, with the caress of his finger down her neck, across her collarbone. Her body swayed, a fraction of an inch closer to him as her lips parted on a gasp, his nose skimmed hers and electricity rocked through her.

Need arched through her.

She wanted to kiss him, and if the way he was staring with hooded lids at her lips was any indication he wanted the very same thing.

"A girl like you. Could drive a man to repent."

Caroline did something that she never did.

She leaped.

Her lips captured his lower lip. Soft. Tentative. He exhaled at the touch, bending down to meet her mouth fully. They kissed, slow, drugging, reveling in every drag of flesh, of every fusion of skin. She let her tongue peak out, and his met hers in a sinful massage. Klaus's hands threaded in her hair, his other to slowly caress the skin of her waist to her lower back.

She fisted her's in his shirt, pulling him close, keeping him away. The fire flamed, their tongues tangling, his bodily steadily pressing her against the confessional wall. On an impulse she caught his lower lip between her teeth and tugged and the sound that escaped him went straight to her core. She pressed herself closer, he grappled for her harder. His hands moving down to the sides of her hips, with a little tug he was pulling her up and settling himself between her legs.

She let out a small cry at the content and the sound seemed to enflame him. His mouth met hers again, their teeth clicking as their mouth's meshed.

"Alright cut. I think that's enough for this sequence. Why don't we move to the pews. Bring in the extras."

Caroline stared with confusion into Klaus's eyes. His own marred with desire. Her lips stung and Klaus couldn't seem to drag his gaze from them. There breathing was labored and it took a moment for her to look to her left to see they were still surrounded by cameramen.

That they weren't alone. Like at all.

Horror roared through her.

"I guess…. I guess we should go." She said, her voice small.

"Have dinner with me tonight." His voice was low, husky, and it send a thrill through her already vibrating senses.

"Why?" _Maybe because he made you soaking wet with just a kiss Caroline? Maybe that._

"I think I'd like to pursue the prospect of salvation." And with a sweep of his thumb over her lower lip, he left.


	12. Drabble Prompt: Goodame II

Klaus is a demonic wolf shifter that is a soul dealer and Caroline is a human owes him her soul. She's been running from him since the night they made the deal for her soul and sealed it with black silk sheets. When he finds her what happens?

 **A/N: soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo I just want to put a warning on this drabble, because it turned out a lot darker then I usually write. Please be careful if you have any triggers. But gooddame who is my drabble muse/spirit angel sent me this prompt and I immediately fell in love with the idea, it just happened that idea that rose in my mind ended up kind of dark. Note: sorry Love, but I intentionally ended the drabble with a "what happens?" I mean you asked me too. :) Anyway, I hope you read and enjoy.**

It had been 687 days since Caroline had sold her soul.

16,488 hours.

989,280 minutes.

59,356,800 seconds since that fateful night nearly two years ago that Caroline Forbes ceased to exist and the soulless hollow mirage replaced her.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

Not for infamous Miss Mystic Falls, the Director of the policeman's yearly raffle, and the chairman of the Mystic Falls beautification committee. From the moment Caroline emitted her first cry on that mild October day she was born her life was destined for utter and absolute contentment. Mystic Falls held little to tempt a wayward traveler in their direction, many tourists passed the sleepy little town in search of the barren battle fields of the Civil War. If the tiny little rural town had realized it's own insignificance they would never admit it, as the level of opinion it held of itself and of the occupants of it was near worship. Being born into one of the founding families of Mystic Falls was akin to being born into royalty, and Caroline was not only fortunate enough to bear the name of a founder but to be born beautiful. Her mother was police chief, her father a prominent corporate lawyer based in Richmond. From the time she was a pig tailed toddler ambling through the Virginian sunshine her life was perfect, and Caroline navigated the trials of growing up flawlessly.

Caroline's life was everything a young debutantes life should be. A picturesque childhood with doting parents, valedictorian of her graduating class, received her bachelor's with honors from Whitmore, and moved back home to the tiny little town of Mystic Falls to be the city's premier party planner.

She had it all.

The perfect childhood, the perfect daughter, the perfect girlfriend.

Caroline was perfectly aware that there were certain expectations of her, placed upon every founding child since there birth. They were to marry and marry well, and preferably to another founding decedent. She knew that at some point that she would be need to fulfill these obligations just as so many others had before her, it was her duty after all. Her duty to her town.

So it was with excited disbelief when Damon Salvatore expressed interest in her.

He was older, nearly nine years her senior, but he was gorgeous. Caroline could remember seeing him as a child, of blushing a brilliant scarlet when he gave her that lazy half smirk. The captain of the football team, who had taken the Timberwolves to state and brought home the trophy. He was a legend, a true testament to his ancestors and well on his way to being the next mayor once Carol Lockwood gave up the throne.

When he swaggered up to her at the Winter Wonderland event and complimented her on the decorations she had to force herself to not blush. She was not longer a 12 year old love-struck little girl, she was an adult, and as startling as his icy blue eyes were offset by the sharp angles of his cheekbones she was determined to not embarrass herself.

"You did a great job. I hardly recognized the place."

"Thank you." She replied coolly, letting her chin tilt forward and her eyes to stare into her half empty contents of her champagne glass.

"I don't think they'll stop talking about this party for months. You'll send the older set on their ears."

She gave him an amused smile while she shifted her weight to her right foot.

"It'll do them well, don't you think. Give them something to do other than to catalog everyone's move disapprovingly." He had laughed. Really laughed, and she remembered feeling warmth blossom in her chest as he gave her an amused expression and took a sip of the amber liquid in his hand.

"You're funny. Maybe I'll see you around sometime."

She smiled at him, her eyes going soft. "Maybe you will."

It didn't take him long.

They ran into each other in the coffee shop the next day. Then it was the grocery store, the pharmacy, even on her early morning run.

It was like it was a sign. A sign from above that was pushing the two of them together. It took all of three weeks of casual encounters and three real dates before the town was buzzing that the Up and coming political powerhouse of the town was dating the much younger all American girl Caroline Forbes. Needless to say, the approval was astonishing. It was a whirlwind. All smiles and laughter on the arm of the man she was so certain that she loved.

They had the perfect life.

The perfect lie.

It was maybe six months when it happened. They had the Fell's hospital fundraiser. Damon had been drinking heavier than Caroline had ever seen him drink before and despite Caroline's polite protests he refused to let her drive the home. The moment both doors clicked shut it was if the Damon she had known clicked off and was replaced by a completely different person. He screamed at her. Grabbing her by the front of her jacket until he screamed so close to her face that her ears rung.

He pushed her back before starting the car and drove them recklessly back to his apartment.

Caroline stared forward in shock. Not certain what had just happened. Not sure what she should do.

The next day it was as if it had never happened. Damon was back to his smiling self, offering her coffee and a bagel while talking about the events of the party the night before. With his pretty smile and his even prettier words it was easy for Caroline to explain the event away. He had been drinking, he probably didn't even remember it anyway. After all he hadn't hurt her.

It was fine.

Until it wasn't.

The first time he laid hands on her the screaming fits were common place. It was expected. When he shoved her back into the door frame of her bedroom she felt stiff for days, but it was still easier to believe that the man that walked with her arm in arm into the parties she organized didn't really do those things. That it was a mistake. Something like that couldn't happen to her, not in this town, not with this man.

The signs were all there. She had remembered watching a video in her homeroom class on recognizing the signs of abuse, she had watched, wrote the necessary report when asked, but she had never taken the information to heart. The yelling was only the start, the controlling was next, and the occasional nudge and shove during his tirade that she assured herself hadn't really hurt her. How easy it was to pretend it was nothing.

Until the day he pushed her down the stairs.

She didn't remember much. Not the push, not the fall. She remembered waking up hazy, her head throbbing, her heart thumping slowly in her chest. She couldn't move, and it took her a long time to realize that she was lying down in the back seat of Damon's Camaro. Caroline wasn't sure what had happened, but she was too scared to speak. To let him know that she was awake, that she was still alive. The car screeched to a halt, and for a small minuscule ignorant moment she thought he was taking her to the hospital. That he was trying to save her.

It wasn't until he opened the door, pulled her lifeless and broken body out and she was able to catch the thick wooded vegetation did she know that she was mistaken.

He wasn't trying to help her; he was trying to get rid of her.

Water pounded heavily against water and she recognized the sound of the falls that their town was famously named for. If he were smart he'd dump her off the bridge. But regardless of the fact that Damon Salvatore was handsome and charming, intelligence was never his strong suit. He walked for a long time, Caroline's body handing lifelessly over his shoulder her hand swaying as he stepped through the wooded terrain. She wanted to move, to fight him, but she couldn't feel her legs, she could only feel pain.

When he finally flung her to the ground he didn't even take a moment to look at her, to feel a modicum of remorse on what he had done. Just threw her down into the weeds, like a sack of garbage he'd been itching to dispose of.

It all went quiet after that, as she stared at the stars above her, her breath rattling into her lungs. She willed her arms to move, her legs, but she stayed completely still. Eyes fixed on the sky above her. With a burst of effort, she tried to form words, but even the whispered help tumbled around silently, carried away by the light Virginian breeze. The air grew still. Where before the edges of her vision had blurred it became intensely sharp. As if everything had come into pristine focus all at once. The world stopped, the falls were no longer roaring in the distance, the chirping of grasshoppers gone, the silence was deafening. There was nothing. Nothing but the crystal clear stars in the sky and the numbness slowly inching through her.

She didn't know when it happened, when she realized that she wasn't alone. But suddenly the stars were replaced by a pair of eyes, a pair of midnight blue eyes, mere inches from her own, analyzing the lines of her face. She felt her breath rattle faster as she took into account the sandy golden locks, the handsome jaw, he was shirtless, and ancient looking necklaces swung between them. As if he'd manifested from another time.

"What a pity. So much beauty, so much vivacious life." His body was crouched over her, his arms and legs resting along her length, his hand came up, caressing the slope of her cheek. "To be discarded in the forest, soaked in blood. Soaked in bleach. Forgotten by any and all. You remind me of a sonnet, a poem from a dearly departed friend. Come let the burial rite be read, the funeral song be sung, an anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young."

The words tripped from her lips, but she did not recognize the voice as her own. "Who are you?"

He gave her a smile. A wicked terrifying brutal smile, one that simultaneously made her want to curl her toes and run as far away as possible. "I'm the collector of death."

A fear, one of another kind coiled within her. "Am I dying?" She whispered, her eyes searching his own.

"Yes." He said earnestly, honestly. The words were heavy and feather light at the same time. The confirmation of her fears and the inevitability of her fate all mixed together with the realization that the pain would soon be gone. "If you want."

She didn't speak, just stared into those fathomless eyes that were both human and not. Human and more.

He angled his head as he let his gaze linger down to her chin, her ears, the column of her neck. "What is it you want sweetheart?"

"Revenge." The words whispered like a prayer through the empty woods.

A grin, equally as vicious spread across his features. "Revenge. A Queen indeed." His eyes trailed back to her own. "I can give you revenge, a future, the far away cities, the haunting melodies of cultures you don't understand. Art you've never seen, food you never dreamed of tasting. Decadence you've never dreamed of experiencing. You can have it all Caroline… All you have to do is ask."

He spoke her name like a benediction, and it sent a thrill like no other through her body as his tongue curled around the vowels. How had he known her name? Better yet, how did he know the things she wished only in the deepest darkest recesses of her being. It was a choice, a risk, but an option none the less. She could die, or she could live.

"I don't want to die." He nodded, lighting moving some hair away from her cheek. The brush of the back of his hand on her skin was like fire.

"And you understand you must pay the price?"

"What is the price?"

His hand moved, from her cheek down to the hollow of her chest, his finger traced a small circle over her fading heart beat as his eyes ignited. "Everything."

She didn't have to say yes. The word ran through her mind and he was moving his arms, lifting her up, cradling her against him as he brought his wrist to his mouth, tearing into the flesh. He smoothed the hair away from her face as he brought the wound to her mouth. The tangy taste of blood danced on her tongue, snaking it's way through her veins. Within moments she could feel her arm, move them, and she was clutching the wrist to her as she greedily supped on the liquid ambrosia. The man clutching her body with his own rocked her through it, until the flow subsided, and her body hummed with renewed recognition. Every molecule within her felt alive, as if at that very moment she had just begun to live.

After a few gasping breaths she brought her gaze to his own, he looked at her in a way that could only be considered lovingly, his hand still threading through her hair brushing the tendrils away from her face.

"What is your name?" She said, her voice no longer rasping with the last fixes of life.

"I go by many names, collector of death, demon, wolf, beast, hellion, vampire, villain. But you my Queen, you can call me Klaus." And with that he gathered her closer and slanted his mouth over her own. Caroline could only describe the feeling that erupted through her was much like what Alice felt when she fell down the rabbit hole. Her body imploded as his mouth seared across her own, fused them together as if they were being sewn as one. Her body grappled closer, farther into the licking fires that his body seemed to contain. Everything that could possibly happen at that moment, did. The world shifted on it's axis, the stars imploded behind her eyes, her heart hammered in her chest. A need that she never imagined she could feel raced through her. Without knowing how his arms were crushing her to him and her hands were tangled in his hair. He held her tightly, too tight. But she liked it, Lord above she loved it.

After hours or minutes, she did not know, he was sprawling her backwards, but it was not onto the cold forest floor that she found herself laying, body covered by a man, monster, that was currently setting claim to her. Plush down surrounded her as the dem… no, Klaus, settled himself between her thighs and rocked the torrid ridge of her erection against her heat. She gasped, at the sensations, all so new, all so much more intense then she had ever felt before. Her fingers fisted in cool silk and it was as she ripped her head away to gasp for breath that she could focus enough to realize the silk was as black as midnight. She could see nothing else. Just the black of the silk and Klaus's skin pressed against her own. Sweat bloomed on her skin as he made languid work of kissing his way down her neck.

The noises she was making didn't sound human, so desperate, so lost in the feelings surrounding her she couldn't tell if she was begging him to stop or to never desist. He came back on his heels, his eyes rung with a yellow that blazed at her with feral possessiveness. He reached between them, ripping her flimsy blouse to shreds as if it were mere bits of tissue paper.

They struggled, between touches, and kisses, and the hard rake of her nails down his back to rid themselves of their clothing. All she could things as he wrestled the denim of her jeans down her legs was that she would not be complete until she knew what he felt like inside of her.

It was if the thoughts itself beat like a tattoo through her mind.

When he finally ripped the delicate lace of her panties from her body and traced his thumb lightly down her slit she was sure that she really was dead, that this was only a dream and the pleasure he was giving her with a mere caress wasn't real. His hooded eyes pierced her, his mouth swallowing her moans as with sure, slow fingers, he circled his thumb over her swollen clit and watched her rise.

She couldn't understand the words he was whispering to her, broken fragments, of 'love', and 'sweetheart', and 'queen', and 'time' bounced off of her as she felt pleasure coil itself tight inside of her. When she finally come she was certain her body exploded. White light covered her vision, her hands crushing as her hips rode talented fingers blindly. When she finally came back to herself she was wrecked, her body shuddering as the same hand that had delivered her the most implosive orgasm known to mankind trailed the wet evidence of her desire over the sensitive skin of her stomach. He watched his hands progress, eyes flaring as her juices made a glistening trail in the dim light. With shaking fingers her hand moved to stop his own, bringing his intense gaze back to her own. Begging him without words.

As if he were reading her every thought, every emotion he moved over her, his hand settling next to her head his lips nuzzling into the sensitive flesh of her neck. She cried out as his lips shocked her skin. The little cry soon morphed into a breathless moan as Klaus notched himself at her entrance, pushing barely enough to spread her aching lips to accept him but not a fraction of an inch more.

Her body bowed, trying to cause him to slip inside, to seat himself fully into her slick empty aching heat. But he stayed immobile eyes boring into hers, searching, seeking. Her chest blazed, as if a piece of her became dislodged. Caroline almost wanted to ask what was happening to her, but before she could a satisfied look settled over his face and he finally, tortuously slowly slid deep within her. She'd never felt so much. So hot and so cold at the same time. It was almost as if he had taken her whole and rebuilt her for the sole purpose of experiencing what he could show her. She lost herself in his thrusts, only surfacing enough to hear herself begging for more, for harder. Klaus was growling above her, his hips snapping into her, with one hand braced on his forearm above her head and the other gripping roughly into the flesh of the right thigh that was wrapped around his hips. It was hard, and rough, and perfect all at once. She began to build so fast she didn't know if she'd be able to keep up with her own orgasm.

It was his voice, the silkily beautiful sound of his voice saying her name, begging her to come that finally through her over the edge into oblivion. He followed her moments after, making a sound she was sure she'd here every night, in every fantasy for the rest of her life.

Like before, as she lay on the wet floor of the woods she felt her body go weak. Unlike before, this was from a level of exhaustion, bone deep exhaustion she had never felt before. Klaus bundled her up, folding her against him his hands trailing possessively against her limp body. Her breathing began as he continued to speak, to whisper soft words and reassurances into her skin.

"You will have your revenge, sweet Caroline. And then you will take your place beside me." And with that she fell into blackness.

She woke with a start that next morning. Her chest heaving, her body cold, too cold for being piled under blankets. Her eyes flew around her and she realized she was at home, in her own apartment, alone in her bed. Her mind raced as memories of the night before washed over her.

Of Damon.

Of the Car.

Of the Woods.

Of the man…

Her hand flew to the back of her head, she could feel the massive bump settled there, but where before there was a gaping wound there was only a ridge of a light scar. It was real, last night was real. The rusty stain of blood was caked upon her hands as she flung back her blankets and went to move to her bathroom.

Her chest felt vacant, empty. The type of emptiness that swallowed you whole and sent you into madness. She rubbed the spot, remembering the flame that had lit there the night before. Of Klaus saving her life, of promising her revenge, of making love to her. Electricity crackled on her fingertips at the memory of his skin touching hers and she shook her head to reorient herself.

With a stumbling step she walked through the dark doorway of her small en-suite bathroom, flicking on the light. Her eyes grew in horror at the site of her own reflection. Not at the dirty bloody look of her face, but the deadly message slashed across her mirror in blood, her blood.

 _However long it takes_

It was more than a threat. It was a promise.

And it was then that Caroline knew what she had done. What she had really done.

She had sold her soul.

For her own revenge.

And he, him, Klaus would come for her the moment that she fulfilled it. There she would live out eternity, in hell. The price for the decision she made.

Her lungs heaved as she continued to read the words before her. Over and over again, emphasizing every word to try and garner a meaning. However long it takes. However long it takes for her to get her revenge. However long it takes for her to once again die. To be sequestered into the deepest darkest corners of hell.

A new crippling fear ran through her. One that went beyond the fear of Damon, the fear for her life. It was the fear of purgatory. Of never knowing solace from her pain.

She did the only thing she could thing to do.

She ran.

Damon was charming enough to explain around her disappearance, and if she never got her revenge upon him, she'd never have to face her fate.

She ran far. And she never stopped.

That was 687 days ago.

Never more than three days in one place, never the same mode of transportation. She became an expert on living on the road, of becoming inconspicuous. Of hiding. She knew he was following her, it had been maybe six months after she bolted that she could feel him. Always on her tail, always too close for comfort. She knew it was him. There was only one person that made her skin burn, that rose the flesh of her arms, the hair on the nape of her neck. It was always one step behind her, making her run harder, robbing her of her sleep, and slowly but surely robbing her of her sanity.

Every once in a while it would fade. All of the sudden the feel of him, the indiscernible pull would dissolve and she'd breathe easy for the first time in weeks.

But it was always a moment, as if he were toying with her. There'd he be, and the farther she'd go to escape him.

Today was one of those moments. She felt nothing from him. Nothing but the emptiness inside of her. She let her eyes bounce over the water from her perch ha'penny bridge. She had dreamed of this, of the travel, the places she would go, of the luscious rolling hills of Ireland, the beaches in Tahiti. He had promised her this. The travel, the culture, the delight that it was supposed to bring her, but he lied. She snorted at that, of course he lied, he was a demon after all. She had seen all those things, the hills, the valleys, the cultures, but with the constant threat of capture she could not enjoy them.

She lived a half-life.

A cursed life.

He must find her situation hilarious.

"Now why would I find your pain amusing love?"

She staggered back, her ankle almost catching as she righted herself. Eyes that had haunted her dreams stared back to her. His deadly beautiful face mere feet away from her own. And eternity passed in the time that they both stared at each other, until once more he spoke.

"Hello Caroline."

It was over.

She was caught.


	13. Drabble Prompt: Accidental-Rambler

Yay! to you writing more :) How about: Klaroline + "My blind date just stood me up and oh, here's my ex with their hot new girl-/boyfriend and I'm feeling utterly shitty, can we make out for a minute?" Pretty please!

 **So it goes a little off prompt. But I still ended up enjoying writing this. Hopefully you like it! accidental-rambler**

Fuck.

FUCK.

Fuuuuuuuuckkkkkk.

Tyler was here. Tyler was here. This was not a drill, all soldiers to their posts, sound the alarms, abort. Abort.

Sure they had broken up months ago, and sure it was half way amicable, and sure she was 100% over him, but she was not going to be the girl who runs into her ex boyfriend and his new girlfriend sweaty and gross from the gym, with no makeup on.

It was not happening.

Not today, not ever.

She didn't even look as she ducked to the floor eyes bouncing around every which direction. Booth. Booth would work. She crawled on hands and knees under the booth hoping beyond hope that Tyler and Miss-wears-shorts-in-winter just grabs their coffee and then leaves.

"Can I help you?"

She cringed. She chanced a look up to where the voice was coming from to meet a bemused expression peering under the table.

"Ummmm… I'm just…. checking the structural intengrity of the tables… for…. science."

"Right."

Just go away stranger, man. Albiet a pretty stranger man.

"Who are you hiding from?"

"No one."

"Really? You're location under the table suggests otherwise. You sure showed me."

Note: Pretty stranger man was annoying.

"I don't think it's any of your business." She scoffed trying to tuck her feet in farther under the table. She tried to make out the feet in front of her, and which one could possibly be Tyler's but she could only see asses. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.

"As you chose my table as your clandestine hideaway I daresay it is." Jesus Christ was he British? Hot damn, how did she miss that? "Are you coming out?"

There was a good possibility that they were gone already. It didn't take that long to get coffee. With a little huff and a nod she climbed her way into the booth.

Wrong.

Of course she was wrong. Tyler was walking straight at her. Pretty stranger man gave her a beaming smile and she was struck by the dimples basically wrecking her existence. That smile was basically a verbal contract of marriage, either way she was pretty sure her panties disintegrated on the spot. But it was the view directly left of his shoulder that caught Caroline the moment she resurfaced.

Tyler. Was. Right. There.

She lunged forward clasping his lips to hers. To Pretty strangers man's credit he only remained surprised for a moment before he was threading his fingers through her hair, mouth slanting over hers with obvious enthusiasm.

The moment that his tongue stroked across hers she forgot who the flying fuck Tyler was.

Tyler who?

The man who she had no idea's name kissed her like she'd never been kissed before, and she didn't know how long they sat there devouring each other in the middle of a public restaurant like freaking teenagers before they broke apart panting.

Note: Pretty Stranger man looks even better when he looks like he's going to rip her shirt off.

"Wow."

"Wow is right." He said back, his voice a husky murmur. "Maybe next time we kiss, I'll learn your name."


	14. Drabble Prompt: Anonymous

Klaroline + "You're the bastard who keeps parking in front of my house and you just caught me drawing a dick on your window with a permanent marker… ugh, oops."

That was it. This was the absolutely, completely, 100% positively last time that Mr.-I-drive-a-monsterous-suv-and-block-another-persons-driveway-even-though-you-can-see-my-prius-right-there was going to take his genitalia compensating vehicle and make her late for work.

It had been happening for weeks. Mr.-only-comes-in-the-middle-of-the-night-because-he's-"visiting"-the-leggy-bartender-across-the-street would manifest while she was asleep and not leave till well into the late morning. The first time it happened she had chalked it up to a mistake, after six times and having to result to the only chance Caroline had to get to work on time was to call a cab, and even then she was late she wasn't so sure. Not to mention out of a good deal of money. Cab's weren't cheap. That's why she had a little thing called a car.

She sighed heavily, fuming as she stared at the black vehicle. An idea cropped up in her head and she dug through her hobo bag until she found the massive black sharpie she kept with her. With a slight skip to her step she clipped her way to the vehicle, the sway of her skirt brushing against the backs of her thighs. Her hands separated with a pop, uncapping the marker and then finally pressing it to the window directly before the drivers door. It was meant to just say "Dick" but with the level of rage she was currently feeling it blossomed to a massive penis, complete with a large set of hairy balls. She grinned, maybe it would prompt him to buy a car more suited for his tiny package next time.

"What do you think you are doing?" An accented voice filtered from behind her.

Caroline flew around, eyes boring directly into gorgeous midnight orbs. He was hot, like wicked hot. And that voice.

Please don't be asshole suv guy. Please don't be asshole suv guy.

"Redecorating?" It wasn't supposed to come out as a question.

"And why exactly did you think drawing the male reproductive organ on my windshield was warranted?" She cringed inwardly. She was nowhere near lucky enough to caught vandalizing a car bye someone who didn't own the car On the outside, she lifted her chin in defiance.

"I thought maybe it would remind you to look where you park."

He quirked his eyebrow at her. The move was equal parts attractive and irritating.

"You're blocking my car. Next time I'm calling the police." And with as much conviction she could muster she recapped the pen and moved towards her front door.

She hadn't gotten two steps before his words crashed over her. She turned to look at him as he spoke. "Not to criticize your work or anything, as I appreciate your imagination in regards to size, but for next time. I'm not circumcised, love."

He gave her a wicked smile that showcased a pair of equally wicked dimples before hopping in the driver seat and starting the ignition. It wasn't until he was driving away that his parting words washed over her.

Next time.

NEXT TIME?

Like hell.


	15. Cupcakemolotov's Birthday drabble

Cupcakemolotv's Birthday Drabble

 **A/N: So here it is! Since** cupcakemolotov **and I are birthday twins I wrote her a drabble. Her prompt was TVD Klaus with Smut. So this drabble is off canon and takes place directly after Klaus makes Tyler bite her and he comes and saves her and I became utter trash. Hope you like it and Happy Birthday Friend**.

If that worthless jerkface Damon Salvatore could have just minded his own business none of this would have happened. Caroline hated him, hated him with every fiber of her being.

He was the most selfish, egomaniacal, psychotic, disturbed man she had ever met.

Regardless of the fact that that idiot was Stefan's brother, why the hell were they still putting up with him?

Oh, that's right, maybe it was because he wasn't the only psychopath in town and it was better to have one psychopath trying to kill you rather than two.

So even though only yesterday she had been clinging to her life, in and out of agonizing pain due to a hybrid bite, that she was then saved from by the only person who could conveniently cure a hybrid bit, Damon freaking Salvatore decided it was a good idea to try and kill the same freaking hybrid.

Apparently the words "Cannot be killed" didn't register to the likes of Mr.-I-am-actively-trying-to-steal-my-brother's-girlfriend. Being an idiot however did.

So when their plan failed, again. Like they always did. Every single time. It was no surprise that Klaus Mikaelson retaliated.

The only problem was, that this time he had chosen the wrong bit of leverage.  
He would have been better off choosing Elena.

The entire town called out a search party if Elena hadn't been sighted in over fifteen minutes. But Klaus hadn't chosen Elena Gilbert. Somewhere in his delusional power hungry hybrid making mind he had gotten the notion that Caroline Forbes was the person to kidnap in order to get her idiotic group of friend's attention.

She had woken up from having her neck snapped on the most luxurious velvet she had ever touched. The last thing she remembered was being on her way out of the decades dance committee meeting, her purse slung over one shoulder and her curls bouncing along her shoulders when it all faded to black. Her eyes opened to find her hands bound, and after that little bit of information had been properly processed she wasn't surprised to find the same infuriatingly attractive smirk that had sat next to her bed waxing poetically about art and literature staring back at her.

"My friends are going to come looking for me." She said with every vibrant ounce of vehemence that she felt. He angled his head at her, his face paralleling her own lying against the plush pillow beneath her cheek. His eyes trailed over her features, down the angle of her neck, and she was pretty sure shamelessly into her cleavage making her want to fidget in discomfort. It would be a cold day in hell that she would give the same man that had Tyler at his beck and call the satisfaction. As if he read every syllable of her internal dialogue the twisted, smug bastard simply smirked harder. Apparently there were varying depths that a person could look like a smug jackass, Caroline could now give evidential proof.

"Well, Sweetheart. That's what I'm counting on."

His words snapped through her, but other than the stiffening of her shoulders there was no external change to her calm demeanor. There was only one little problem with her confident protestations to her captor.

She was 100% full of shit.

Tyler had left town, Stefan and Damon were too busy fighting over Elena's attention. Jesus they didn't even have the decency in telling her they were going to attack Klaus in the first place. They weren't going to be looking for her, she'd be surprised if two weeks passed before anyone realized she was missing.  
It was a sobering thought.

Especially staring into the face of the devil himself.

"These ropes aren't vervained." She said, pushing her bound hands towards him. His eyes flicked down to her wrists momentarily, an undisguised look of satisfaction heating his gaze at the sight. "What's stopping me from just breaking them and escaping."

She should be afraid. Afraid of telling the most powerful creature on the planet that she planned to run away from him. But the man that had come into her bedroom the night before had saved her life, and if he really wanted to kill her, he could have just let her die then. It was a small assumption, one that might not even be right, but she was banking on that hope with everything she had. It might be the only card she had to play.

"I assure you, should you attempt an escape, you will not get outside of these walls before you are ripped to pieces. Each one of my hybrids have been told to kill you if you are not with either Rebekah or myself. And if one of them don't kill you, I assure you love. I will."

The smile he gave her was terrifying, so large that his canines were bracketed in threatening display. The dimples cutting his cheeks such a stark contradiction to the yellow lining his blue irises. He was feral, dangerous. It was Caroline's stubbornness alone that allowed her to stare back at him stony faced. She couldn't let him intimidate her.

"I'll keep that in mind."

He nodded. Moving to stand with a slow calculated grace. As if his he had conscious command of every single molecule of his body. He sauntered towards the heavy door of the room she was encased in, turning back only to leave with a dramatic flourish. "Settle in sweetheart. You may be here for a while."

Her first day in captivity was terribly uneventful.

You know, for being captured by the most vindictive evil hybrid that could literally kill her with a nick of a fang. In all honesty she felt like she should complain or something. Wasn't this supposed to be terrifying?

Sure she was stuck in a room with no possible way out and no windows…  
But it happened to be the single most lavish room she'd ever been inside in her entire life. Not even the Lockwood mansion was this nice, and that place was an actual mansion. The ceilings were towering, the walls papered with actual velvet brocade. It was probably three times the size of her own, with a bed that felt like a cloud, a closet she was pretty sure she'd gotten lost in once, and every single goddamn channel it was possible to receive at her fingertips.

As the hours on the clock ticked on, she had investigated every inch of the space she was being held captive in. From the ornately carved chairs to the massive Faberge egg that was clearly encrusted with legitimate rubies. Once she had a) ascertained that there was no feasible way out, and b) that the Mikaelson's had entirely more money than they knew what to do with she was left to do nothing but watch endless hours of television. She had to admit, except for the rope around her hands, this wasn't all that bad.

It was actually even a little boring.

A walk in the park compared to the last time she'd been kidnapped. She wasn't getting shot by trashy werewolves this time. So there was that.

The room came complete with its own ensuite bathroom, laid with a beautiful tiling of ivory marble. It was a convenient addition for her, it would save her the embarrassment of having to wait for someone to lead her through the house like prize cattle. The chore of trying to shimmy her skinny jeans down her legs with her hands bound was a definite hurtle, but at least she wasn't dancing around the room because she had to pee.

It wasn't until seven o'clock that evening rolled around that her lock clicked and her eyebrows flew into her hair. She'd been lounging on her side, watching her sixth straight episode of America's Next Top Model when the door handle turned. She was off the bed in an instant staring at the door as if the minute it opened all hell was going to break loose. The sigh she let escape her when a petite feminine form occupied the frame and not the hard imposing figure of Klaus was probably tangible. The girl clicked the door behind her, staring at Caroline with obvious distaste. Caroline was almost going to open her mouth to ask what in the world she wanted before the dark haired woman spoke.

"Dinner will be soon. I'm here to see you've changed." Confusion arched throw her, a frown tugging her lips.

"Changed into what?" And that's when she recognized a large white box under the girl's arm.

The girl moved forward, allowing her unmistakable scent to waft past Caroline and recognition to dawn. Hybrid. The box got dropped with a careless toss onto the bed. The girl moved around the frame towards Caroline with obvious intent.

Caroline took a miniscule step back, the fact that this strangers bite was capable of inflicting just as much pain as Tyler's had still clear in her mind. Sure she was taller than this scrap of girl before her, and that Caroline wouldn't go down without a fight. She didn't want to spend her last moments on earth hallucinating. That and it would be a shame to destroy this room, it would probably take a fortune to replace. Which she'd probably feel bad about if it weren't for the fact that it belonged to Klaus-I-like-to-kidnap-people-Mikaelson.

The hybrid gave her a sharp glare as she reached forward and unraveled the rope around Caroline's wrist and motioned toward the box.

Caroline knew a lot of things. She knew how to plan a party.

She knew that she looked hideous in orange.

She also knew for certain that she wasn't putting on whatever the hell was in that box even if he paid her.

"Can't I just go down there like this?" She motioned at her black moto jacket over her white chiffon tank top.

The woman didn't look like she was pleased at all by her answer.

"He said you were to change."

"I'd rather not." She spat back.

The woman looked like she wanted to say something. Several things even. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she shook her head in frustration. Something was stopping her. Compulsion, it had to be compulsion.

A mental check mark volleyed through Caroline's mind. That was interesting.

What didn't Klaus want his hybrids to tell her?

Her teeth gritted as she glared. "He specifically said that he wanted you to change."

"Yeah, that's not going to happen." Caroline said, crossing her arms across her chest and jutting out her hip.

The woman before her shook her head one last time before snatching the rope back off the duvet and wrapping it tightly back around her wrists.

"It's your funeral."

She was led into a dim hallway. The walls lit by gothic lamps that, knowing the quality of furnishings in the room she just exited weren't just made to look like antiques. The dining room she discovered was downstairs, and it was only then that she realized that she was being housed on the second floor. When the small hybrid finally pushed open the double doors she was greeted by two familiar pairs of eyes. Rebekah's face held an expression of unaltered disgust.

She let her eyes linger on Rebekah's, her beautiful features as icy as they always were. Even with the immediate distaste between them. The cheerleading and the trying to steal her boyfriend, Caroline should have known that a situation like this would happen, and that Rebekah would take pleasure in the fact that Caroline was currently at their mercy. She was pushed harshly into a chair on the opposite side of the grand table from Klaus by the lady hybrid.

It was only then did she look directly at him.

He looked so severely imposing sitting at the head of the massive table. With the other empty seats around them, the shadows cutting across his face, the long tapers lit in the center of the grand table flickering in the dim light. Before her a beautiful patterned plate of china sat framed by ornate silver cutlery that she was sure weighed as much as one of her textbooks. To the right stood a fine clear crystal goblet filled to the brim with dark liquid. The veins below her eyes began to flutter as the irresistible tangy scent of blood wafted up her nostrils and she tried to dampen down her haste as she lifted her bound hands and cupped the goblet in her hands and lifted it to her mouth.

Neither Klaus or Rebekah spoke to her as a small bell chimed and one by one servants filtered in with plates of food that smelled equally as delectable as the layer of blood currently coating her lower lip. They dined in silence, as if the figure of Caroline Forbes with her hands bound trying to figure out how to navigate food to her mouth was an everyday occurrence. Honestly, the fact that they didn't want to talk didn't bother her one bit. It saved her from opening her mouth and doing something stupid like telling them to both go to hell.

When the meal was finished Klaus leant back into his heavy velvet chair, without even having to ask the plate before him was lifted and taken away. The heavy weight of his gaze fell upon her and he let his fingers trace his bottom lip as he surveyed her from afar.

Another hybrid moved forward, taking her own dish from it's place before her and she gave him a kind smile. She wasn't sure what she was expected to do, should she comment on the meal? Did he really expect her too? He analyzed her with a blank intensity. Caroline felt her cheeks grow hot and she could swear that she could feel his candid inspection straight down to where her toes rested inside of her flats. She couldn't decipher the look upon his face, it was something she was altogether unfamiliar with but unnerved her none the less.

He spoke, quietly.

"I see you chose not to change. Were the garments not to your liking?"  
If she weren't blessed with Vampire hearing she might not have heard him. She took a moment before speaking, making a show of sliding her goblet towards the left edge of the table where one of the hybrids were clearing.

"I wouldn't know as I didn't look at them."

His jaw tightened as his brows furrowed, darkening his features into a dangerous expression.

"And is there any particular reason why you chose to ignore my gift?"

She didn't even try to suppress her scoff.

"Other than the fact that you've kidnapped me? I don't have any intention of being dressed up and paraded around this place like a Barbie doll for your amusement."

His expression didn't change, simply held her gaze for an infinite amount of time.

She didn't look away, but every moment that their gaze held she wished that he'd have the weakness to blink. Her eyes burned as she willed herself to hold his gaze. To be able to return to her room with even this one infinitesimal victory under her belt. When finally, she couldn't stand it any longer her eyes closed And in the microscopic time it took for her to blink she opened her lashes to find Klaus's murderous face millimeters from her own. She lunged back as his arm flashed and her dinner knife stuck deep in the table between her clasped hands.  
Her breaths came out in short little gasps as the metal of the knife tinged with the force of being shoved into the mahogany. She didn't speak, didn't look away as he continued to glower at her.

"You're free to wear what you like, but you'll find your time with us decidedly less pleasant if you continue to defy me." The words sent a shock up her spine, at the horrendous implications and the silkily soft way the threat dripped from his tongue. His necklaces swung between them as he crouched before her. It wasn't until his plump lips tugged up back into his ridiculously attractive smirk that she realized she hadn't been breathing. Her breath rushed from her lungs as he angled his head to the side surveying her.

"Goodnight Caroline." And with that, he stood, his height towering over her giving her one final stark reminder of who exactly was in charge before swinging himself to the ground and disappearing out of sight.

She slept fitfully that night. Klaus's soundless lunge into her face had shaken her up way more than she wanted it to. He was quiet. Fast. Like freakishly next level alien quiet. She had met plenty of Vampires since she'd been turned and not a single one of them had been so quiet she hadn't been able to sense them directly in front of her face.

It didn't help that his face had to be so fricking good looking either.

She wasn't blind okay.

She also had questionable taste in men considering she had once thought the same thing about Damon the walking plague.

It just so happened that Caroline was not as stupid as she once was. She wasn't stupid enough to believe that just because some beautiful man with an accent that could probably melt panties off of women said a few nice words to her that he was worthy of her affection. Sure he was gorgeous, and was charming in that ridiculously creepy sort of way, and knew things about the world that she could barely dream about. But he was a psychotic maniac. He had taken Stefan away, he had turned Tyler into a hybrid, he was literally using her best friend as a hybrid making blood factory.

She got it.

Klaus=Antichrist.

There was just something about his blood.

She tossed to her other side as the memory of his blood washed over her tongue and her mouth began to salivate.

Back when she was human she used to get the same feeling when she thought about cheesecake, now all she could do was remember the euphoric tang of his blood coursing through her veins and it made her press her thighs together in agony. Why hadn't anyone told her that she'd have such a reaction to the taste of another vampire's blood? Wasn't that Stefan's job? Where was this lesson when he was dragging her around the forest showing her how to hunt for bunnies?

She had tried human blood before and it hadn't affected her in the way that his had. Sure it was amazing, and she hated how much she loved it. But Klaus's blood sang as it danced along her taste buds. It continued to sing to her, even though she knew it had long since passed through her system.

It had to be a hybrid thing, her mind flashed to Tyler. Her conveniently missing kind-of-ish-boyfriend. Would his blood taste like that? She rolled onto her back an irritated huff escaping her. With a twist she eyed the stark red letters of the alarm clock on the beautiful bedside table. 3:23.

She really needed to get to sleep.

She was about 90% positive that she didn't actually sleep. If she did she didn't feel any of the calming affects.

Instead when the door clicked open and the surly girly hybrid filtered in she wasn't startled. She remained lounging on the bed, burrowed beneath the covers. She turned her head to find the woman standing before her with another large white box. Caroline didn't even try to contain the sarcasm that satiated the words streaming from her mouth.

"Let me guess, another outfit I should really put on?" The woman rolled her eyes before tossing it onto one of the empty baroque chairs littering the room.

"They're serving breakfast in the library. Your presence is requested." The woman sneered. Caroline wiggled her way up, eyeing the young woman with equal distaste. Why was she such a little snit?

"Sure." She moved to her feet, before ambling around the bed towards the door, arms still clasped as they had been for far too long.

"Aren't you going to change?" The woman asked tiredly.  
Caroline smirked as she passed by the petite brunette into the hallway.

"Not on your life."

"Caroline. A pleasure."

Dear god it took everything she had not to roll her eyes at the lilting man's statement. Right, like she's got any choice in the matter.

She gave him a tight smile before moving forward and plopping herself down on the elaborate emerald sofa.

An older man moved forward, he was obviously a hybrid, but he gave her a sweet smile as he offered her a plate full of a few sausages and pieces of fruit. She accepted it with a demure thank you, her stomach filling with affection and sympathy for the man. It was the nicest that anyone had been to her since she'd gotten here. She wouldn't forget it.

Rebekah was sulking on the opposite couch her arms crossed and her lip out far enough to catch something.

Her father used to say that if she pouted like that a bird would fly by and poop on it.

Needless to say she wouldn't be supplying that anecdote to the present company.

Klaus read aloud from the paper. His voice was like silk, and the way his tongue curved around the vowels was enough to send her bare feet curling into the plush carpet beneath her. It was a picturesque scene, one that could be witnessed in everyday houses around the country. TV shows had scenes like this, a sophisticated version of Family Ties meets Leave it to Beaver. The only problem was that this wasn't the picturesque American family enjoying a lazy Saturday morning. This was two murderous originals, one vampire, and a handful of hybrids sitting in a room playing pretend.

If this wasn't her life she'd probably laugh.

A gigantic sigh escaped Klaus as he folded the paper down. His handsome face was pulled into an irritated frown as the sun hit his golden curls. A jab of attraction snaked through her and she fiercely pushed it away. "Is there any particular reason you are pouting Rebekah? Or am I simply to guess."  
Caroline brought a single grape to her lips, watching the exchange with interest.  
"I don't see why you are pretending to care Nik."

With a noncommittal humph he lifted the paper once more, shielding himself from her view. This time he remained silent, forgoing reading out loud as he had previously. Caroline actually felt a pang of disappointment as silence wept around them. Rebekah's eyes met Caroline's and she huffed loudly wrapping her arms tighter around herself as she slumped lower on the couch. "And I don't see why she has to be down here in the first place. We should have just locked her in the dungeon and been done with it."

Klaus dropped the paper again fixing his sister with a no-nonsense stare. "Now now little sister. Is that anyway to treat our guest?"

Rebekah didn't answer, just turned her head to glower out the window.

Klaus folded the newspaper with deft fingers before standing and swaggering towards a beautifully marble drink cart and unstopping a bottle of bourbon with a faint pop.

"Would this have anything to do with the Parisian gown you were fawning over?"

If Rebekah was trying to be aloof, she was failing miserably.

"No." She said dejectedly. "I'm much more mature than to let the fact that you won't let me have a dress affect me."

"Well…" Caroline let her eyes linger on Klaus's lithe frame bracketed in the massive window, the tumbler dangling from his fingertips. "…that's a shame, as I contracted the designer to arrive tomorrow to fit you for it."

If Caroline had ever seen the sun rise she may have at that moment. Rebekah's face blossomed into a brilliant smile. She was bouncing off the couch into her brother's arms in a moment. "Nik!" She squealed, her blonde curls bouncing as her brother smiled fondly at her.

Caroline's undead heart leapt slightly in her chest as Klaus held his sisters shoulder preventing her from vibrating with her joy. "Are you done simpering now I'd like to enjoy the rest of my morning respite."

"Of course Nik, you are the most wonderful person I've ever known."

She didn't know when the small smile had twisted onto her lips. She'd never had a sibling, so maybe it was the novelty of what she was seeing that caused her enjoy the sight of the two people before her.

Her eyes met Klaus's for a moment and she let her gaze shift back down to the plate before her, her bound hands being a reminder that this wasn't just a brother and sister. This was the man that kidnapped her.

This was Klaus.

After breakfast she'd been shoved back into her room. It was becoming routine.

Luckily her mother was gone so often that she was used to entertaining herself.

She would kill to have her phone. There was only so much TV one could watch, at least if she had her phone she could read a book or play a game or something. Oh and maybe call some of the people she considered her friends.

Oh hey, it's me Caroline. I've been captured by the guy you've been trying to kill. I'll just be here waiting for you when you get around to rescuing me.

When her Hybrid guardian reappeared with another massive box she'd didn't even bother asking if Caroline was going to change today. She just tossed the box on top of the other and motioned for her to walk out the door. Caroline hesitated, only a moment.

"What's your name?" The woman's eyes widened as she took a long look at Caroline.

Her answer was slow, calculated. "Skaara."

Caroline took that moment to remind herself exactly the situation her guard was in. She was in the same position as Tyler had been. She deserved a modicum of Caroline's sympathy no matter how unpleasant she was.

Tonight the scene upon entry to the dining room was the same as it was the night before, and upon closer inspection she could see that the table was set for each of the empty seats. For a moment she thought that they might be having guests. As she took her chair, listening to Rebekah's lilting cadence she settled into the familiar routine. Perhaps there was some fissure of information she could glean from the two Originals that could aid them in the attempt to bring them down and to free Elena. This hostage situation, no matter how inconvenient might have the potential to be beneficial in the long run.

"Honestly Nik, I could almost thank you for putting a dagger into my chest. The styles and music since the twenties have been atrocious."

Klaus smirked lightly, with a flick of his finger he summoned a hybrid to him with a massive decanter that Caroline immediately knew was filled with blood. Fresh by the smell of it. She didn't let her mind wander to where he could have acquired fresh blood it was best if she did not ask. The hybrid filled Klaus's goblet, then Rebekah's before moving the length of the table down to Caroline's.

She gave him a small smile as she listened to them speak.

"It wasn't that horrible Bekah. The fad's felt natural at the time. They grew on you."

"I don't know where a pair of parachute pants possibly evolved from. They are vile."

Klaus chuckled lightly before bringing his cup to his lips. His eyes briefly met Caroline's and the dancing candlelight looked like flames in his dark midnight irises.

"Yes well, there was obviously extremes in every decade that were not widely accepted."

"Please Nik, you've always been the forefront of fashion. I can guarantee you wore those ghastly things."

Rebekah picked up her fork and speared a large stalk broccoli. Klaus followed suit spinning his fork around his long nimble fingers. Caroline's fingers felt clumsy as she navigated the heavy silver fork to her lips with her roped hands.

"Well, you'll never know will you."

Rebekah scoffed playfully.

"You are not the only person with nefarious contacts. I'm sure I could dig up a picture of you dressed like a tacky peasant."

She had to admit, she was enjoying the constant ribbing between the two of them. It wasn't the first time she'd seen two relatives playfully tease each other.

After all she'd known Elena and Jeremy since she was five years old. The bond between a brother and sister was special, and apparently that sentiment applied even if said brother and sister were completely deranged.

"Bekah…" Klaus said warningly.

She smirked as her lips closed around the stalk.

"Please. It would be nice to have something to tease you mercilessly about. You have to admit that the material I have to work with is drearily minute."

Klaus did not respond. Just continued to enjoy his meal.

This captivity, if you could call it that, was making things very confusing. It was muddling up her thoughts to sit across from Klaus and Rebekah as they spoke to each other like normal human beings. It made it more difficult to demonize them this way, to condemn them when she was constantly reminded that there was more to them simply then the monsters beneath. That they were capable of love. Or what they considered love anyway.

"It seems you've adjusted despite your early protestations on the modern garb."  
Rebekah rolled her eyes at her brother. "It's still shockingly improper. It was nothing like the dresses in the south before that infernal civil war."

Caroline's ears perked up so fast she thought they were going fly clean off her head. The words were sputtering out of her mouth before she had time to stop them. "You were in the south during the Civil War?"

She wanted to slap the blazes out of herself. Rebekah and Klaus both turned to her in surprise, like they had forgotten that she could speak let alone to them.

They stared for a beat longer than was normal before Klaus moved to reply.  
"Yes, we had a residence in New Orleans at the time."

Curse her, curse her love for the south, and the civil war. She already knew that she was odd. Now it was going to get her killed. LITERALLY killed.

"I'm sorry. I just…" What in the hell was she supposed to say right now? "I just like the civil war." She finished lamely.

Klaus's shared a look with his sister, an intrigued look had settled over his face as he leaned forward, eyes pinned to hers. She felt heat creep its way up to the very tips of her ears. This is bad Caroline, this is very very bad.

"In what respect?"

Her mind stuttered momentarily before she found the words to speak. His gaze was disconcerting and she found that it was easier when it wasn't focused directly upon her.

"I…. I guess like wouldn't be the correct word. Fascinated would be more like it." They didn't seem to be phased by her answer and they were waiting for her to continue.

"The Civil War was a different time, which I guess gives it a little bit of a mystique to it. Like a different world almost… a different life…. Even a fairytale. It's not something that I ever got to see, just read about. Not to mention the nation altering historical events that happened then, not just the abolition of slavery. I mean the South was captained by the superior general but their ignorance and affluence ended in their own downfall. I mean…"

She had gotten carried away with herself. She stopped before she began to spit anymore word vomit out of her mouth.

Why in the world could she never say the right thing?

"I'm sorry that's stupid." She backpedaled.

"No. For the most part you're right. The South was a different world. You would have liked it."

Her breath caught in her throat as she brought her shaking hands forward to her goblet, trying to steady her frazzled nerves. Her gaze flicked up behind her lashes in enough time to see another look passed between siblings, she couldn't read what it meant. She wasn't sure she wanted to.

Breakfast that morning was announced in what was becoming common place. Skaara brought in another large white box that she didn't even begin to try and convince her to change into. Her usual severe features were pulled into an expression that Caroline could almost consider soft. And she was even able to smile a little bit as she followed the girl down to the library.

Both Rebekah and Klaus were in fine humor that morning. Caroline heard their lighthearted banter and Rebekah's soft laughs before she even made it inside the door.

The moment she sat down on the same emerald divan that she had occupied the morning prior Klaus was on his feet, his focus solely on Caroline.

"Caroline, I have something to show you." Her hackles rose immediately as the words filtered through the air around them. Suspicion kept her rooted upon the couch, staring at Klaus the Original hybrid with wide expectant eyes.

He motioned for her to stand and it took every ounce of courage she had to slowly hoist herself to her feet and edge towards him. On the backside of the room near the massive windows stood a large desk, that was neat despite the piles of papers that littered the top of them. She could only imagine Klaus sitting behind it, dealing with something as mundane as tax returns. The thought almost made her laugh, but she wasn't stupid enough to think that she'd make it out of this house alive if she openly ridiculed the man keeping her hostage.  
It took her a long time to get to him. Not only because of her apprehension but because of his physical presence she felt with every step that she took towards him. When she finally stood next to him, staring down at the top of the beautiful desk his proximity was almost suffocating. She took a shaky breath as her eyelashes fluttered trying to comprehend what was in front of her.

It wasn't anything that she had expected. A large leather bound book sat against the wood of the desk. The cover was crisp and clean, the leather a dark black with a gold typeface staring back at her.

Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell.

She blinked several more times. Her hands instinctively reached out to touch it.  
He halted her with the raise of his own. It was enough for her to take an immediate step back. One eyebrow raised in question as he reached forward unknotting the ropes from her wrists and lightly lifting the tome from its resting place and presenting it to her.

"Gently, it's a first edition." And with a soft pass the book was seated heavily in her hands.

Her eyes memorized the cover like it was the sight of someone she loved's face.

Her right hand lifted smoothing over the cover, her fingers lingering over the golden words etched in the face. The pages were pristinely even, something that she knew was uncommonly rare in a book of this age. She cracked open the book to stare down at the stark black words on the white pages.

"It looks brand new." She murmured. It wasn't a statement made to anyone imparticular, just an observation of the beautiful piece currently being held in her hands.

This book wasn't just one of the most notable tomes detailing the Civil War. This book had been manufactured in the 1890's it had seen the beginning of two centuries and still looked as if it had been just printed.

"Yes well, when you have lived as long as I have. You realize that if you want things to last, a certain degree of upkeep is required. Books are especially fragile things. They require a great deal of care. You must constantly open them, air them, make sure they are stored properly."

She nodded as he spoke, half listening, half not really believing that at that very moment she was holding something that she had only dreamed of seeing.

"It sounds like a lot of work."

He smiled, and unconscious rush of laughter emitting from him in a way that made him seem more human than he had ever looked in Caroline's company. "Yes well, there are some things worth the effort needed to secure them."

Her eyes met his, and she couldn't for the life of her tear her gaze away. Her hands gripped the leather in her hands tighter as the thought poured through her that he was damn sure not talking about just books in that moment. A beat passed, then two, and Caroline could have sworn that as they continued to stare at each other and his eyes squinted a fraction that he was trying to understand just as she was what was happening.

Rebekah's voice snapped her out of their reverie and she felt heat rush to her head as she made herself release the death grip she currently had on the work of art in her hands. "Nik, stop playing with your books."

His eyes didn't meet hers as he plucked the novel from her hands and slipped it onto the wood top of his desk.

"Well Sister, If you managed to open one from time to time you might be able to understand their value."

He moved away from her, and it was strange that as he moved into the center of the room towards the drink cart that the uncomfortable pressure she was feeling moved with him. He didn't bother to retie her hands. And she was bending to the ground and re-winding the ropes around her wrist in an effort to distract herself from the thumping of her undead heart inside of her chest.

"Nik!" Rebekah whined. Placing her pouting chin against the back of the couch, her hands curled around the wood rung.

"Don't you have somewhere to be? I thought you had to meet your tremendously expensive designer for your fitting."

"I'll have to go to Richmond to have it done! It's asinine that I have to go all the way to some massive city just to meet with a designer. I thought you paid him to come here?"

"Bekah." Klaus all but growled that time. His fingers tightening the glass in his fist to such a degree that Caroline honestly thought that it was going to shatter. "I paid a bloody fortune for that man to cross the pond for you. You either go to that fitting or you'll find yourself with a dagger in your chest for another 90 years."

Hostility vibrated through the air like electricity. Caroline did her best to make absolutely no movements. Knowing it was better that no one take notice of her when tensions were high. Especially two highly irritated Vampires who couldn't die.

Rebekah didn't say a word, just humphed loudly and stalked out of the room.

Silence settled in the library as Klaus moved to fill his now empty glass again with the liquor from the decanter.

A thought rose unwanted in Caroline's mind. If Rebekah was going to be in Richmond that night, then her and Klaus would be in the house alone.

Or as alone as one could get with a harem of hybrids.

Caroline couldn't tell what was worse. The way she felt or the way she smelled.

It didn't take a whiff of her underarms to know that it had been almost three days without a shower and she was getting a little ripe.

She had this massively gorgeous bathtub that looked like it could fit eight people in it. The fluffiest towels she'd ever felt in her life, and, as she eyed the boxes sideways. An apparent change of clothes if she needed them.

And she needed them.

It took a moment for her to finally make up her mind. Slowly, her ear trained on the door and the other supernatural presences in the house she wiggled the end of the rope that she had secured her wrists with earlier. The drooped on their own, and as quietly as possible she unwound it until her her hands were free.

She circled the joints, surprised at the stiffness she felt there. Somehow she half expected the moment that she took the ropes off that Klaus would have kicked open the door furious and as murderous as ever. But as one minute went to two, and two to three it was apparent that she was wrong.

She chastised herself as she set the rope on the vanity and moved to turn the water to the tub on as hot as possible. Honestly, what was she thinking? That he had enchanted them or something? He's been probably having a freaking laugh riot thinking about her locked in this room too scared to take her makeshift chains off.

The bath was a godsend. She didn't think she'd ever been so thankful to be able to bathe in her life. Klaus's guest bedroom/hostage chamber was remarkably well stocked, and she was able to find shampoo, body wash, razors, and anything else she really wanted so that she could bathe enough to feel like a member of the human race again.

With her freshly washed skin dew kissed from the heat of her bath and her hair wrapped tightly in the towel she moved back into the room. Her eyes caressed the discarded heap of the clothes she'd been wearing since she'd been taken, and for the life of her she couldn't bring herself to put them back on. It was a minor internal struggle as she eyed the four white boxes making a misshapen tower on the chair.

It wouldn't hurt would it? To just look to see what was inside.

She was curious by nature.

That was it.

So it was the curiosity that made her open the top of the first white box and fold back the thin tissue paper.

It was not curiosity that made her fall in love with the white sundress inside. That was her superior fashion sense. With trembling fingers, she lifted the dress and held up to her own body. It looked like it would fit her like a glove. Rebekah had to be responsible for the boxes, but that didn't explain the fact that the dress was exactly her size.

It wasn't like Rebekah had the opportunity to rifle through her things to know that she wore a size 2. She folded the dress in half, laying it back in the box. She moved the tower over to the bed, and slid the next box open. This one held a long elegant emerald gown. Her breath caught in her throat as she let her hand dance across the sweetheart bodice. She pulled it up, letting the silky satin dance across her bare feet. There were no frills to this dress, no bows, no crystals marrying the fabric, but she was certain it would probably be one of the most beautiful things she could possibly put on. With a disbelieving breath she placed it to the side and opened the next box, the one she had done the math backward was meant for her breakfast yesterday morning. Another dress this time, and she had to wonder at the thought that each outfit didn't hold something more functional, like pants. This one was as devastatingly beautiful as the others, cut to just above her knee with a modest neckline, but the blue floral print made her think of summer days and sunshine. There were none of those things inside her room, only the dark walls with the heavy tapestries. Despite the fact that breakfast was usually held in the library, she'd feel incredibly out of place wearing these semi casual dresses and dining across both Klaus and his sister who usually deigned to wear a Henley and jeans, and an equally casual dress.  
What was the purpose of doing something like that? Of intentionally making her the center of attention by dressing her like royalty?

She moved to the last box, the one that was delivered the first time Skaara had come to fetch her. If she thought that she couldn't be any more surprised by the taste of the person who had become her wardrobal benefactor she was wrong.

This dress eclipsed them all. It was covered in a million rhinestones of varying blues and greens. The dress was a modern variation of an A-line, the bodice hugging her to her mid thighs before fading effortlessly in lightly layered wisps of sea green chiffon. The back was mostly open, with dozens of criss crossing straps that were equally as beautiful as the rest of it.

Not in her entire life had she ever wanted to put something on so desperately.  
It was as if whoever had made this dress had delved straight into Caroline's mind and had created it specifically for her. It screamed her name. From that day forward she'd imagine this dress in her prom photo's, she'd probably imagine walking down the aisle in it. She had to know what it looked like on, perhaps if she were to try it on she'd be able to find some flaw that would make it less devastatingly beautiful. That could happen, right?

She put the dress to the side and underneath it found a pair of delicate gossamer panties as gorgeous as they came. She picked them up and fingered the label, nearly groaning as she read the words agent provocateur in white lilting script. She undid her towel and shimmied the underwear up over her thighs and into place. The dress came next. The fabric felt cool as it slowly encompassed her body, the straps slipped into place along her shoulder blades and she adjusted her chest into the built in cups of the front. She didn't dare look yet. Her hands smoothed across the rhinestones of the front, the feeling of the light fabric cascading down her legs was evocative enough. Her chin lifted a fraction, and she didn't think that she'd felt so entirely powerful simply by putting on a dress. She unwound the towel on her head, knowing that when she finally turned she wouldn't want to stark white fabric to throw off the image.

With a turn she faced the standup mirror, and her breath got lost as she looked at herself.

Things to do if she ever got out of this place: Find who bought this dress and make them buy everything for her.

She took a step forward and her leg peeked enticingly out of the layers. It was a dress made to entice. To enthrall.

Her eyes looked overly bright against the varying blues of the bodice. Her wet lashes blinked. Sans makeup she looked like a child, she'd always believed so, but still, looking at herself with her still wet locks and her bare face. It looked like the dress was meant to be worn this way. She smoothed back her hair, winding the muted blonde over itself before securing it in a low tight bun at the nape of her neck.

The door swung open.

Caroline jumped a solid three feet to the side.

Skaara looked shocked to see her. Her eyes took into account Caroline's appearance from head to toe before looking at the mass of opened boxes and tissue paper littering the bed. She didn't say anything, and Caroline was grateful for that. Her eyes moved to the clock, Dinner was earlier than usual. There was no other reason that she was disturbed.

"Dinner will be served in the library."

She moved to the bathroom, snatching up the rope and moving to her pile of clothes on the floor.

"Sure let me just get changed."

"He's in a bit of a mood today. He demanded that I come get you at once. My advice, this time, let's not keep him waiting." Usually Caroline would tell her that she didn't give a damn whether she kept Klaus waiting or not, but the look on Skaara's face spoke volumes more than her words prior had. A bit of a mood could be translated straight to fumingly murderous; and it was in Caroline's best interest at the moment to stay alive. Her hand squeezed tightly around the rope before she began winding the material back around her wrists. She gave Skaara a muted nod before she followed her out. This wasn't at all what Caroline had in mind. Here she was walking down to meet Klaus in a dress that was chosen for her. It made her feel weak.

She straightened her shoulders, letting her chin lift as she forced the feeling of powerlessness away. He could think whatever the hell he wanted.

It didn't make it true.

When Skaara pushed open the doors to the library she was not expecting it to look so altered in the dark light. The Mikaelson's seemed to have a propensity for leaving things dark during the evening, and though the room was lit more brightly then the dining room usually was it still made the Library that she had become accustomed to look wholly different. She let her eyes dance around the room, reassuring herself that all of the same furniture was there. The couch she usually sat on, the heavy marble drink tray, the baby grand in the corner.

Klaus stood leaning against the fireplace staring into the flames frustration rolling off of him in clearly visible waves. She moved forward as quietly as possible, content to just sit in silence as she had done the many evenings prior. She was no stranger to men sulking in corners, she was friends with Stefan after all, and she wanted nothing to do with a pouting Klaus. Caroline had almost made it to the couch she usually occupied when Klaus turned to face her, anger marring his features. He stopped as he caught sight of her, or more importantly exactly what she was wearing. The irritated expression drained from his face as he slowly and meticulously took into account her appearance.

Caroline had to stop herself from shifting her feet under his inspection.

"You look lovely." He said quietly. The words sent a thrill up her spine, her gaze straying to the ground. There was no reason to respond, instead she simply sat upon the thick velvet of the emerald couch that had she'd come to think of as her spot. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see him approach her, his eyes still roving over her. When he came to halt directly before her she finally craned her head to look up at him. His eyes dancing, his plump lower lip bowed into his signature smirk. "May I offer you a drink?"

She managed a nod, but she did not speak.

Klaus covered his usual route to the drink cart, pulling out two crystal tumblers and beginning to fill each of them with a dark liquid. He lifted his voice a little as he began to splash alcohol into one, then the other. "I apologize for the lack of decorum this evening. Rebekah insists we dine in the formal dining room, when she's gone I don't see the reason to stand upon the pretense."

He ambled forward presenting her glass to her, his raised hand causing the fabric of his Henley to lift and expose a slash of his toned abdomen. She took the glass with her clasped hands, her eyelashes fluttering. "It's fine. I don't mind."

"Very well." He lifted a single hand, barely up to his waist and instantly multiple hybrids moved into the room. A large tray was placed next to Caroline on the couch and her stomach gurgled in anticipation. She brought the rim of the glass to her lips and took a heavy gulp, letting the liquor, bourbon, burn her throat.

With a soft click she set it to the side, surprised at how easy she had begun to perform such essential tasks while constantly having her hands bound. She managed to not look completely graceless as she speared the small stuffed mushroom and brought it to her lips.

For the most part, things did not change much without the additional presence of Rebekah. They ate in silence. The hybrids appeared to fill her glass of bourbon when it got low and she cleaned most of her plate of the sumptuous food that was offered to her.

When she was finished she let the hybrids take her tray, giving each of the men who appeared quiet thank you's. With answering smiles they exited and the doors were clicked shut behind the two of them.

Now that, that was different.

Klaus had barely touched his meal, and had long since forgone his seat to stare blankly out the dark window.

Where was Skaara? She usually came to take her back upstairs by now.

The original hybrid ignored her presence as if she wasn't seated directly behind him. He simply filled up his glass for the third time before he moved over to the piano. She'd never seen it used, not that her being captive for two and half days made her an expert in the Mikaelson's day to day. But she assumed that it was a statement piece. The Lockwood's had a piano, and it was only for the sole purpose that they could tell other's that they owned one. Klaus's glass clinked against the top as he set it down, settling his body onto the piano bench and pressing a few keys lightly. The music vibrated around the room and she felt goosebumps rise on the flesh of her arms.

He pushed a few more keys. None of which connected to the other. As if he were a child entertaining himself.

When he finally moved his other hand up and pressed down on his left side the notes hummed in perfect unison. His right hand bobbed as the music began to swell together. Caroline had always enjoyed the sound of the piano, especially live, so she let her body sink back against the couch. Content to listen to the beautiful music filtering around the room.

They sat like that for a long time. Caroline silently enjoying the music as Klaus continued to let his fingers dance along the ivory keys. She almost felt herself lulling into a light slumber when an unfamiliar sound accompanied the sound of the tinkling keys. Her eyes snapped open as she placed exactly what it was. As Klaus sat, playing an eerily sad tune words were floating with it.

Klaus was singing.

The sound of his melodic voice rushed over her.

It was beautiful, and he was good, really really good.

Was that French?

His tongue caressed a word and she felt a rush of arousal center through her.

Klaus's fingers stumbled to a stop.

Realization dawned.

He was a hybrid. H.Y.B.R.I.D. Aka part werewolf, aka part dog, aka known for their insane sense of smell.

Her face beat red with embarrassment. Caroline flew to her feet and staggered towards the drink cart, knowing she was going to need entirely more alcohol in her system to deal with the sheer humiliation she was feeling about shameless ogling Klaus Mikaelson, and letting it affect her the way it did.

The wetness between her thighs rubbed against the whisper of fabric covering her center causing a delicious friction. With shaking hands she unstopped a bottle and filled her glass. Her hackles rose as she sensed Klaus swaggering up behind her, especially when he took a step closer to her than he'd ever been in his life. The fabric of his jeans jostling the flowing fabric covering her legs.

She froze, decanter held awkwardly in midair before he pushed his empty glass into her vision. It was polite habit that remind hers what she should do next. Her shaking hands tipped the decanter to fill his glass to the brim. Caroline used every shred of self-discipline not to look at him, but she could tell he was studying her, and her cheeks burned at the inspection.

"Do you play?" A moment passed before she understood what he was talking about. His voice was low, smooth, and it rubbed deliciously across her every nerve. Her nipples tightened, straining against the fabric of her dress.

"No. I sing, a little. But I don't play." Why the hell had she told him that? Shut your mouth Caroline. Shut it right now.

He angled the glass to his lips, looking at her with hooded eyes. His arm came dangerously close to her own with the movement. She mirrored his actions, letting the alcohol attempt to soothe her frazzled nerves.

Molton midnight eyes met cornflower as he lifted his hand, so slow that she knew exactly what he was intending an eternity before he accomplished it. She had plenty of time to move away, but she stayed rooted to the spot until his finger finally met her bottom lip wiping an errant drop across the parted flash. Their eyes held, and she found herself lost in his, in the explicit promises they were making. "Would you like to learn?"

"Learn what?" Was her breathy answer. The side of his mouth hitched up in a small little, his gaze drifting down and fixating on her lips before his head angled down and his mouth covered hers in a bruising kiss. Caroline melted. Her mouth fusing to his, battling back with his own for dominance. The glass fell from her fingertips as his own hands wrapped around her bringing her closer to him.

His hands were everywhere, on her back, on her face, kneading her ass as he brought her hips flush with her own. As the torrid ridge of his erection pressed itself against her softness, she felt her body mold along his own.

His hands disappeared for a moment, and Caroline felt the loss desperately.

They resurfaced at her wrists as he tugged at her bindings, tongue tangling deliciously with teeth. Realization dawned and Caroline wrenched her hands away. Her voice was desperate and breathy, and if Caroline didn't know she'd just spoken she wouldn't think that voice belonged to her. "No. Leave them please." The rope binding her wrists felt like a lifeline, like the only thing that was holding her together in the wake of their shared kisses. They'd wrecked her, and she wanted more and she wanted him to stop and she didn't know which one she wanted the most.

A dark look settled upon his face. A look that she had seen before, but never in circumstances that didn't end in someone's spine being removed from their body.

"I see." He said, his voice was hard. Angry even, but Caroline didn't move away from him, and by the granite clasp of his hands on her forearms he had no intention of letting her leave. "You need these don't you Caroline? It's easier for you when you have these between us." He grabbed the ropes and tugged her forward, backing them towards the piano. "So that you can feel like your resisting me even when we both know that your dripping down your thighs…"

His eyes flicked down to where she throbbed, soaking wet and pressing together in agony. He maneuvered her to the side of the baby grand, pressing against her and causing her to whimper as his chest raked across her aching nipples.

"Isn't that it? Because it's easier for you to submit to me with your hands tied. So you can explain to yourself later that you hadn't really given in after all. That you hadn't really wanted me." He angled himself closer, so that his mouth was barely millimeters from her own. His scent was overpowering, everything was too much. The feeling of him pressed against her. The arching electricity between them as he gazed down at her.

"But we'll know better won't we love?" She moved the fraction of an inch forward pressing her mouth back to his own. He instantly took charge, his tongue plundering her mouth until she couldn't remember where her's ended and his began.

He ground into her, his erection pressing thick and hard between them. She shamelessly rolled her hips into his own. It felt so good. So good she didn't want it to stop, she wanted more.

His hand came to her wrists again, pressing them hard against each other. With a wrench she tried hard to move them away so that he wouldn't have access to them. Her mouth ripped from his as she cried out in protest.

He sneered down at her, as the ropes sagged around her clasped hands "Don't worry sweetheart, you're going to stay tied up, you're going to be able to go back to your friends and tell them that you were a good little girl. I promise." And without barely removing the rope from her wrists he was wrapping it around her shoulders, across her breasts, pinning her arms to her sides. It shouldn't have felt as erotic as it did, Klaus carefully draping the rope around her torso until it was tight, making indentations on her skin. With a final move he knotted it directly above her belly button. Caroline couldn't move her arms, only clench her hands at her sides. She should be scared, terrified to be at the mercy of the man before her, but the friction of the rope on her skin, the way Klaus's eyes blazed as he looked at her, at the picture he had created only made her wetter.

With a quick dip he had lifted her to the back of the piano, laying her back against the black surface. His hands traveled paths down her thighs, petting the gossamer fabric to the side. Her legs fell open on their own volition and he wasted no time in settling himself between them. His fingertips skimmed up the bare skin of her inner thigh and she shuddered as a swipe of his thumb came achingly close to her apex. He watched her vigilantly as he pushed the fabric covering her panties from his gaze up around her waist. He didn't even bother to try and slide them off, simply picked up the fabric and pushed his thumb through the material so that they dissolved and she was naked to his piercing gaze.

His mouth opened, his tongue raking across her teeth as he caught first sight of her glistening folds. He looked like he'd never seen anything more tortuously perfect as her laid out beneath him. She moaned, from the look on his face and the feeling between her thighs, and the emptiness she felt. His hands dipped and she watched as with practiced movements he unnotched his belt letting it fall open. Next he unbuttoned his jeans, not even bothering to push them down but tugging his straining erection free. He was big, bigger than she'd had before, and her mouth dried out as she thought of what it would be like to have him press his head between her lips.

His right hand moved forward, pressing down against her clit, swirling her juices around herself. Next she felt the tip of his shaft move between her lips, dragging up and down so very carefully, drawing the wetness over himself. Each time he passed over her, the tip nudged inside of her causing her inner walls to clamp down in anticipation of intrusion, on to be clenching around empty nothingness.

He was teasing her, baiting her. With every swipe along her folds she had to force her hips to remain still. Her body felt like it was on fire, the ropes holding her together as he teased her clit and her entrance with his cock felt tighter.

He'd fold, she was certain. He'd give up this game and finally slide deep. But as minutes passed he never did. Her legs shook, a high keening whimper escaped her.

"What was that sweetheart? I didn't hear you?"

His voice, the press of his cock, the feelings of the rope biting sharply into her skin. She couldn't take it anymore, with a well-timed arch of her hips as he once again dipped the head of his shaft into her he slid deep. She cried out with the intense pleasure that arched through her as he a quiet groan escaped from him.

Her eyes met his stormy blue gaze as he let her adjust to the feeling of him sunk deeply within her. His face was victorious.

"That's a good girl." He murmured to her, rocking into her in a slow steady rhythm. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes at the exquisite sensation of it.

Watching her with lips parted, eyes heavy, the hint of his tongue slipping its way across his teeth. He reached out, hands fisting tightly in the rope knotted around her navel. With a sharp snap of his hips he thrust into her hard, using the knot to pull her against him, deeper onto him. Until he was so deep she didn't think that she'll every feel anything like this again.

He sets an unrelenting pace, the muscles in his neck tight as his hips snap over and over into her. His hands fisted in the rope, his eyes boring into her own as indecipherable noises escape her mouth. She feels herself building to a climax.

Sensation ascending faster and harder than she had ever before. Klaus's nostrils flare as she begs. Dear god she was begging.

He was wild, rough, primitive, and when yellow sparks to ring his irises she can feel herself desperate for something she's never felt before.

Bite me.

She didn't know if the thought rung out in her head or if it made it out of her mouth during her symphony of please's and oh god's.

But with his hips still pounding into her he covers her body with his own fully, his teeth sinking deeply into the vein in her neck. The minute his fangs pierce her skin she feels her body splinter. There's screaming, and it's only after the blinding white light subsides that she understands that it's her. His thrusts have shallowed, rotating lazily inside of her letting the after effects of an orgasm that could move the richter scale flutter through her. He continued to sup on her neck until the wounds flow long since stopped and the velvet abrasion of his tongue lapped up the remaining smears along the column of her neck.

A familiar sting lightly frayed the edges of her post orgasm glow. The sharp sting of venom beginning to course its way through her blood.

Within a second the world moves, and she's perched above him, straddling his thighs, still stretched to the brim around him. His eyes are cloudy, as he steadies her body with his hand tugging on her restraints and his other arm moving up to gently press her lips against her wrist.

The thought of his blood, once again dancing on her tongue makes her spasm around him. His eyes flare and his length pulses within her. Veins dance beneath her eyes and it only takes a second before she's sinking her teeth into his flesh and his tangy ambrosia is once again flooding her senses. A muffled moan escapes her as the feel of his blood, mixed with the assured guidance of his hand rocking her hips against him. She can no longer look into his eyes, to see if he was enjoying the moment the way she was. She could already feel another orgasm galloping its way through her body. But where before Klaus was quiet, lethal, punishing, he began to be vocal.

The sound of his moan almost made her come.

"That's it love." His gravelly voice instructed as she moved against her restraints rocking her hips harder as he continued to thrust up into her.

"Take what you need."

She was drunk, drunk on the blood and the sensations coursing through her. It had never been like this. It would never be like this again. She barely noticed as his hand snapped the ropes in half letting them sag around her body, she only knew that both of her hands were clutching his arm to her mouth as his free hand was wound around her waist grinding her onto his body. His face was buried in her neck, directly beneath her ear. And it was his agonized shout that escaped him as his cock jerked deep inside of her that sent her over the edge once more. Her world an endless blur of blistering pleasure and the tart taste of blood.

Caroline woke up sore. Which she didn't even think was possible for a vampire.

She moaned slightly as she shifted in the cloud she was currently laying on, letting her eyes flutter slightly against the light.

She also woke up in a bed that was not the one she'd become accustomed too.  
The memories of last night washed over her. She whipped up in bed.

Oh god.

Oh Fuck.

Oh fucking god in hell.

Her eyes flew around the room, covers clasped to her naked body. Oh god. Oh god what had she done. She smacked her hands against her face. Horror filling her at her actions. Cognizance filtered in that her wrists were no longer bound.

She searched her skin for a mark, a blemish, any indication that they were once there, there was none.

She'd had sex with Klaus Mikaelson.

Not even normal disappointing sex.

Earth shattering, mind blowing, holy fucking hell she came so hard she thought she'd never stop coming sex.

The door clicked open and Klaus walked in breezily. Caroline clutched the blankets tighter around herself shifting her body towards the center of the bed as she took in his appearance. He looked fresh as he pulled up short before her. His hands clasped behind his back, his necklaces tucked into a Henley. His jeans entirely too casual to encase the complicated man standing before her.

"Good morning." He said, that infuriating smirk twisting his lips. A spike of heat washed over her and she inwardly screamed at herself at her reaction. The smile broke into a grin, he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Your clothes have been cleaned and will brought up to you shortly. Once you've dressed you are free to go."

Caroline blinked up at him. His words sounding foreign, as if he were speaking another language. After a few beats of silence, she found it in her to respond.

"Just like that? You're going to let me go."

"Yes." He said nodding his affirmation along with his reply.

Suspicion consumed her as she stared at the man before her in confusion. "And you'll let my friends go as well?"

With a lazily kick he sauntered to the edge of the bed, lowering himself down to the surface so that he was perched much the same way he was days earlier when he had saved her life. She bundled the blankets closer to herself and he either didn't notice her nervous action or didn't care.

"Unfortunately your friends have taken it upon themselves to make attempts on my life. I don't usually find myself in a forgiving mood when something like that happens. No, your friends will have to die."

"You can't."

"You'll find that I can. Revenge happens to be one of my specialties, and I'll see to it that they all meet their end, even if it takes me another 1000 years to achieve it."

Anger seeped into her at his words, even as his lilting eyes met hers once more.

"Then why let me go? Wouldn't it be easier to just keep me hostage until they come looking for me?"

"Though the idea does not have its own intricacies of merit." The words came out in a smug tone that made her want to reach forward and slap him. Because she knew exactly what he was referring too, and she was currently trying to burn those memories from her mind. "I've found that using you in order to murder your friends serves no purpose for me."

"I don't understand."

"Despite your questionable choice of company, you've never made an attempt on my life. I find that I no longer feel the need to punish you for the sins of your friends. You're free."

A breath rushed out of her.

This was a token. From what she'd come to learn about Klaus since he rolled into town destroying everything in his path he did not give such passes lightly.

She should just take it. Walk out the door and rally in her good fortune that along as she didn't try and kill him, she'd be alive.

"So you'll leave me alone from now on."

Another mischievous smile stole over his face.

"Oh no Caroline." Unspoken words passed between them, the memory of his body thrusting into her own as the taste of his blood coated her lips making it difficult to maintain eye contact. "Let me be clear. Just because I've been benevolent enough to release you, does not mean that you are free of me."

"You're crazy if you think that I'm going to let you anywhere near me after this."

His expression didn't change, his eyes sparkled merrily as they lowered a fraction, skimming along the bare skin of her shoulders and neck.

"But you will. The next time you come to me Caroline is because you want to. There will be ropes, no bonds. You'll come because you're looking for something. Something only I can give you."

"Your insane." She spat.

"Am I?" He moved to stand, waltzing towards the door with every bit of cocky swagger that he had came in with. He placed his hand on the edge turning to look back at her, his eyes caressing every inch of her. "I'll be seeing you shortly sweetheart."

And just like that, he was gone.


	16. Penny Dreadful

Penny Dreadful

 **A/N: This is a Klaroline Au set inside the world of Penny Dreadful. I'd like to thank my beautiful lovely** **lclrgsl** **for making this suggestion that I followed head over heels because there is nothing more that I love than Ethanessa & Klaroline. It's just a drabble, as I didn't know how I'd feel about it as I wrote, but I hope you enjoy reading it and let me know what you think. Special hearts eyes at ****wanderlust-in-nyc** **for the added motivation.**

There were two sides to London.

That had been true since the very beginning. On one hand you had the Beau Monde. The painted aristocracy of the Ton that were known for the frivolous pleasures and their necessity to gluttonously sate themselves in excess. The center of the world when it came to nobility, notoriety and wickedness. It was easy to forget that London was not home to only the Lord's and Ladies of society. London was sprawling, and though Hyde Park and Mayfair held beautifully landscaped grounds and townhomes, there were deeper darker places to the city. The spittalfields where the lowly dockworker broke his back day after day, the soiled streets of Whitehall where the prostitutes lifted their dirty skirts for even dirtier men. The hells where men engaged in every diabolical pleasure there mind count create. Children, men and women alike who would rob you as soon as look at you. It was a town known for its upper class but frightfully outnumbered by the lower.

There was one thing that rang true for both classes alike. A tale that could sweep the most unsuspecting of traveler in and refuse to release them. London, whoever you were, was dangerous.

It just so happened that London was even more dangerous at night.

A lonely light lit the hallway as eight year old Hope's eyes snapped open. Her eyes scanned around the room listening to the loud yapping of dogs directly outside of her window. It was still dark, and she didn't like it when the dogs barked so loud. The wind howled and she shivered underneath the thread bare fabric of her blanket. A large creak of floorboards sounded from outside of her door.

"Mummy?" she whispered so quietly she was sure her Mum couldn't have heard it even if she were listening for her daughter to speak. Of course it was her Mum, she chastised inwardly, who else would be walking around their place in the dead of night? She moved out of her bed, the cold air making tiny Hope shiver as she padded barefoot towards her door. The planks of her floor creaked beneath her feet as she grasped the massive brass doorknob in her tiny fist and turned it.

"Mummy?" The creaking of the door echoed through the apartment. Hope shivered again, not from the cold, this time there was something else. Something she couldn't place, something that was wrong. Her breath thundered in her ears as she tiptoed past her door frame towards the candle dancing upon the long wax.

"Mummy?" Hope made the final step from the hallway into the living area. Her feet stopped as they stuck into a thick liquid on the floor. She looked down lifting one foot then another trying to find where it had come from. Her eyes caught her mothers, unblinking laying on the floor covered in blood. Lifeless.

It was everywhere. Dear god it was everywhere.

She opened her mouth and let out a terrified, horror-filled scream.

A woman rocked back and forth on the ground. The room was seemingly empty save one thing. A cross nailed to the wall, staring ominously at the woman rocking back in forth muttering in a language long since forgotten.

"Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum. Benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Lesus. Sancta Maria, mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen. Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum. Benedicta tu in…"

Silence echoed through the room as she stopped speaking. As if the woman heard something she looked up. Her face visible in the dim light for the first time. Tears streaked down the beautiful woman's face. Her golden hair looked dull in the glowing lantern light. Her eyes filled with a desperate plea. She looked pained, as if she were witnessing something that no one else could see. That there was more before her than a small cross depicting the Lord and Savior. After a few moments she clasped the beautiful ivory rosary tighter into her fists before once again breaking out into fervent prayer.

Little did anyone know that as the woman continued her pursuit another voice was speaking. Low, ominous, and right on the back of her neck. A voice that had been chasing her for longer than she could remember. A voice that repeated in it's seductive voice. "Soon, child, soon"

The sun was bright. Something that Klaus Mikaelson learned wasn't nearly a common enough occurrence in England. It helped that it was summer, as the constant rain made the possibility for him to do his job rather hard. He let his thumb press down until the hammer clicked and a gunshot blast followed with the squeeze of his trigger. The bottle that way perfectly staged shattered and the wealthy and bored occupants of the audience let out a impressed string of impressed ooh's and ahhs.

If this job paid more it might even be a little fun.

Klaus swept around, the massive wig perched under his equally massive had irritating him. He wanted to rip the blasted thing off, but he wasn't paid to be Klaus Mikaleson – British/American Transplant. He was paid to be an American cowboy, with low morals and a penchant for solving altercations with his trigger finger. He spoke then, loud enough that the people in the back of the stands could here him and with the ridiculously exaggerated American accent that the fobs in London seemed to eat up more than a tray of biscuits. "Just about then… " He drawled waving his gun aimlessly through the air. "I seen big old Crazy Horse himself, riding up with his band of bloodthirsty Sioux killers." The crowd cheers as he spun around hammering down once, twice, three more time and watching the other bottles disintegrate into midair. One of the stage men launched a bottle in the air and without a moment hesitation Klaus shot, watching as it exploded in midair. The crowd preened as they watched. A bell dinged around them signaling the end of the show was drawing near. .

Marcel the show's proprietor came out, moving before the crowd as they began to stand from their seats. "Applaud the man!" The crowd laughed as Klaus crouched low, letting the drama of the perfectly rehearsed script flow through his words.

"General Custer gave the word, his blond hair flapping in the breeze like something from myth. Says he: "Stand here and fight, boys, fight for your very lives!"" He screamed the last bit. Waiting as they members of the audience hung upon his every word. "And so fight I did. More bottles riddled through the air and Klaus hit them all. He lost himself in that, the challenge of sending a horseshoe flying, of making bottle explode. Lost himself to the challenge. A challenge with every show, a challenge to never miss. He barely heard the applause. Instead he spun his gun into his belt and continued to deliver his final lines. "One of the few survivors who lived to bring you this tale of pluck and daring."

Festive music started and Marcel reclaimed his place before the crowd, moving for them to give Klaus a standing ovation. He whipped off his hat, letting the long hair of his wig bounce a little as he gave a gallant bow.

"Thanks for coming out today and I hope that I have found some favor among you estimable gentlemen…and ladies." The applause was deafening as he turned and disappeared into the see of tents behind him. He did not look back.

He never looked back.

Klaus has established a bit of a routine after a show. There was always one woman, and not the same woman every time mind you, but one English lady who wanted to feel the danger that Klaus represented. To take the American hero, the dangerous cowboy and make him hers, only if for a moment. It had started right after they had landed, and honestly, Klaus wasn't one to turn down an eager girl ready to get her skirts tossed up. She was a pretty little proper miss this time, who begged him to keep his American accent as he thrust inside of her.

" Yeah! " She begged as his hips snapped back and forth between her own. She was moaning, gasping, Grunting as she clawed at his back pinned against one of the prop covered wagons they used for the show. "Oh god yeah." It didn't take them long before she was clenching around him and he was letting out a long string of expletives as he came.

It took him even less time to withdraw from her and start to put his clothes to rights. She did the same, starry eyes, her muted blonde hair a wreck and her chest heaving and flushed from reaching her climax.

"Will I see you again?"

It was the same every time. They asked to see him again, even if they never had the real intention. Klaus was no fool. Though he was born in England, he and his family was raised in America. And no self-respecting woman worth her salt would sully her reputation with the likes of him. It was a passing fancy, and Klaus had no intention of settling down. Not now. Not for any woman.

"No. Would that I could." He said tucking an errant lock of hair behind her ear. He no longer spoke with the exaggerate drawl he had used with the show. The woman seemed surprised of the aristocratic lilt to his voice, so similar to her own. They had both gotten what they had came for, there was no reason to keep up pretenses now. "Show will be heading off to Paris. So many details to attend to… You understand. The life of a theatrical gentleman is peripatetic, sweetheart. But I was under…" He leaned forward giving her a chaste kiss. Men chattered nearby, just as the church bells began ringing in signaling that the second hour was upon them. He let his eyes hold hers as he spoke words he would never dream of being truth. "Just know that you have made my visit here truly memorable. I shall never forget you."

She looked dazed as he basically did the equivalent of patting her on her head and sending her on her way. He shook his head as she disappeared, hopefully wandering off to find some other poor fool to wax poetically too. She wanted to feel danger, well now she had gotten it. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his pocket watch to check to make sure the time held up to the ringing of the bells. He had to stop himself from looking onto the other side of the forayed gold. To the words he knew held there.

It was best not to think of that. Except try as he might he found himself staring at the words engraved into the casing of his pocket watch. And most importantly the word at the very bottom that mocked him.

His father had always said he had a flair for the dramatic. He'd be appalled to know his son had reduced himself to a career on the stage.

"You didn't tell the truth." A voice filtered from behind him and he snapped his watch closed, putting it away as if he hadn't been staring at it nostalgically. "By my reckoning, you were a boy when General Custer died and 'tis well known there were no survivors."

His turned, annoyance coursing through him at the audacity of the feminine voice in calling him a liar. Not that he wasn't, but it was the principle of the matter. His stopped short as he caught sight of her. He was certain that he had seen more beautiful women than the one standing before him, but he couldn't for the life of him recall a single one. He stared, his eyes boldly taking into account the curve of her cheek, the golden blonde of her hair, the long fringe of her lashes. The angelic features of the young woman were unsettling. She was young, strikingly young. But there was a wisdom behind the saucy smirk and dancing light of her eyes. There was a shadowed darkness he saw every time he looked into a mirror.

He did not even try to pretend he was American. "What we call a tall tale, sweetheart."

She replied, moving forward with an easy grace that made his chest tighten and his cock stir even though he had just gotten finished shagging some bird senseless. "Exceedingly tall."

"Vice of my nation. We're storytellers. Join me, won't you?

"You're nation? You don't sound like an American?"

"You don't have to be born there to live there. You saw my exhibition?" A table sat abandoned under a white tent, the chairs were rickety, the table dirty. But it held one of the most important things there was to easing the tension of new conversation. Whiskey. He made a motion for it and the woman's golden eyebrow arched at him as she sunk down across from him.

"Highly impressive, especially your finale."

"Well, you have to leave them wanting more, as we say in show business. And what might I do for you?" There was a glass on the table, but he ignored it. Instead he unstopped the bottle in front of him and took a long swig. Daring the woman before him. She didn't seemed phased by his audacious behavior and she was most definitely a lady.

"I have a need for some night work." If he had hoped to shock her he had failed. But as the words dripped from her glorious mouth she sure as hell shocked him.

"Sweetheart don't we all?" he said wryly bringing the bottle to his mouth and taking another swig.

"I have a need for a gentleman who's comfortable with firearms and not hesitant to engage in dangerous endeavors or was all that a tall tale as well?" He met her gaze. Bloody Hell this woman was serious? He opened his mouth. To tell her to find someone else, that he wasn't interested in her girlish fantasies for adventure. But she cut him off. "What do you think? Expensive watch, but threadbare jacket. Sentimental about the money you used to have. Your eye is steady, but your left hand tremors. That's the drink, so you keep it below the table, hoping I won't notice. You have a contusion healing on your other hand, the result of a recent brawl with a jealous husband, no doubt. Your boots are good quality leather, but have been resoled more than once. I see a man who's been accustomed to wealth, but has given himself to excess and the unbridled pleasures of youth. A man much more complicated than he likes to appear."

Klaus's face remained impassive as he stared at her. It was years of training that did not give the surprise racing through his body, the blood roaring in his ears. The frantic beating of his heart. This woman wasn't just some highborn lady with a fancy dress and a penchant for danger. This lady was something else. And though he knew that he shouldn't, that it was a disastrous idea, this lady intrigued him.

"So, it's a job, this "night work?"

"Yes." She said without hesitation.

The suspicion did not cede and he continued. "Something of a criminal setup?"

He watched her face closely. In poker there were always tells. A person could never completely hide their hand. They had habits, signals, whether they knew them or not. Perhaps he was hoping that she would fold, that she would give something away. But instead she looked at him with that amused expression that was impossible to read. This woman might actually be a better actor than he was. "Would it matter?"

"Not at all."

"Then why ask?"

Why ask? Because he was curious that's why. How often do stunning woman waltz into a wild west show looking for someone familiar with a gun. No woman he'd ever met or most likely ever would meet again. He wanted to ask because she was an enigma, and try as he like and as much as he fought himself, the longer he spoke to her the longer he wanted to find out. "Show's heading off to Paris, pretty soon." He offered her a swing form the bottle and she shook her head politely in refusal.

"That won't be a problem. The job's tonight."

"Is it a murder?"

That smirk of hers might be the death of him. "Would it matter?"

For a second as he looked at her he wondered what it would look like to see her smile. Truly smile. Not the seductive smirk that made her plump lower lip just out. Tempting a man to lean forward and suck between his teeth.

He shouldn't do this, but he found himself speaking without his permission.

"One smile and I say yes."

It happened without hesitation. Her face broke into a grin and in that moment everything changed. She had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. Where her pout gave her a sensual allure, her smile made her look almost like a child. He stared at her awestruck, even when the gleaming flash of her white teeth were covered once more by her rose colored pout. She fished inside the top pocket of her tailored dress and placed a small rectangular piece of paper onto the table before him.

"Meet me at this address at eleven o'clock."

He shook his head. Almost unconsciously. "I don't know London. I may have been born here but I don't know how to get around."

Her head bobbed as her eyes danced. "Then ask a policeman." She stood, without announcement or circumstance. With one more amused look she turned moving away from him as quickly as she had come. He watched the generous curves of her body underneath the tight heavy fabric of her dress. His fingers touched the edge of the parchment before him and he found himself calling out after her.

"Do you have a name?"

Without looking back she answered.

"Yes."

He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as she disappearred.

She stood in the dark, waiting patiently at the exact address that she had been instructed to invite her new contracted help. She had arrived early only for the fact that Caroline Forbes was always early. It was a marker of good manners to be punctual, and Caroline prided herself that she was always on time. She had followed her instructions, and here she stood waiting without a hint of anxiety to take the next step in their journey.

Their journey to find Elena.

A shadow approached and she was surprised to see the familiar figure of the man she had watched perform earlier that day.

"Mr. Mikaelson I didn't expect you to be on time." She said, a note of pleasure ringing through her voice that was in no way contrived. A renewed sense of respect welled within her for the man before her. He had talent, with a firearm, she was pleased he also held respectability.

"Oh, I never keep a lady waiting." He said, to some, it would have been a tease, a jest that could be easily chuckled over tea. The way Mr. Mikaelson said it, was business. All business. She liked that. She gave him a smile, a small one as she nodded at him.

"Very wise. This way please." They turned down the dark alleyway to their right. Their footsteps clacked harshly against the cobbled street beneath their feet. Somewhere close by Caroline could swear she heard a cat meow but she did not let it distract her, it was her charge to lead Mr. Mikaelson towards their destination, and she would do so without fail. They slowed as they reached a heavy wooden door and Caroline's eyes met her companion's confused gaze for one moment. She let her hand rap lightly against the wood and waited as the footsteps echoed from inside. It took a moment, and she noticed the man next to her shift uncomfortably next to her, his hand flexing over the gun strapped to his side. She gave him a reassuring smile as the door opened and a familiar man filled the lighted threshold before him. Her chest filled with affection as she gave the newcomer a warm smile. If familiar face of Grayson Gilbert had noticed, he did not show it, instead his eyes were set fixedly upon Mr. Mikaelson. Grayson Gilbert was a massive imposing figure of a man. To his credit. Mr. Mikaelson didn't even flinch as they stared each other down.

"This is the individual?" He said, addressing her but not pulling his inspection from the man at her side.

"Yes."

"Did you bring your weapons?" He nodded.

Sir Gilbert motioned for the two of them to move forward. Caroline felt no hesitation as she moved into the room where the others stood weapons at the ready. Klaus followed her inside, heavy on her heels but kept a sharp eye on everything that was going on. He eyed Sir Gilbert. He eyes the African footman standing next to him. He eyed the building they were currently occupied. "What're we doing here?"

"We're looking for someone. More than that, you don't need to know." Sir Gilbert said brusquely, analyzing Mr. Mikaelson once more with his shrewd gaze. "Do not be amazed at anything you see and don't hesitate." Without another word the shifted to the side revealing a gaping hole in the floor. Pitch Black.

Caroline moved forward.

It was time.

It was time to bring Elena home.


	17. Royals I

25 days of Klaroline - Day 17: Royals

 **A/N: I super enjoyed writing this so I really hope you enjoy reading it. I had a lot of fun on this one. A little Royal Au for you. Let me know what you think :)**

He hadn't anticipated that they would catch him. No one had ever caught him before. He'd been running for a long time, from his father, from his throne.

In fact Niklaus did not think that of all places in the world that he would meet his downfall in the neighboring country ruled by the Forbes clan. His families' closest ally in trade.

The trip line he had set up to counter any such problems should have stopped them. Survival becomes second nature to one when your father wants to see you scalped for the indiscretions of your own mother. He had set the trip line himself. He was a master huntsman, something had to have gone wrong. Something he didn't anticipate.

But it did, and that is how he ended up here, in a cell. It happened nearly a fortnight ago, and he was surprised at the level of comfort he was provided thus far. The cells were clean which gained his immediate appreciation. He doubted that the cellars of his own families' castle could boast the same. His portions were small but sufficient to keep him alive, though hardly sufficient to plot an escape. He was provided with books, and parchment. Even his bed was surprisingly comfortable considering his circumstances. He had never been imprisoned before, and in spite of it all he remained calm. Sooner or later – and he would prefer sooner of course. His father would shuffle off his mortal coil, and he could once again be in the position to return to his homeland and reclaim his throne. Safely speaking, he was probably safer ferreted in the dungeons of Forbes Castle then he was running from his father's head hunters. That was unless they decided to hang him.

One week passed, then the next. Forbes was notorious for their fair governing nature. Every prisoner was entitled to a trial before the King. Prince Niklaus felt at unease as time continued to pass without being called for his trial. It was illogical that they would hold a prisoner for so long without bringing him up on charges, and the wait as well as the confined space of his cell was making him suspicious. He missed the vivid life of the forest and the winking specks of starlight in the night sky. It did not take long for him to lose his sense of time. Was it morning? The golden light of the rising sun casting rays of golden light across the misty fields. He did not know. But the regular intervals of guards changing and food being brought kept him occupied. The battle with his own mind raged as he was committed to more time in infinite solitude.

Over the course of the fortnight he could feel a full change in his other senses. His eyes adapted to the dim light of the chamber illuminated only by the flicking flames of torch lights. His sense of smell became sharper, his hearing more acute. Though the guards did not station themselves near his cell, he caught himself straining to hear their conversations, to ascertain their actions. At first he was convinced that they had discovered his identity. But the guard's ignorant avoidance of him put his mind at peace.

Life as a prisoner, at least as a prisoner of the Forbes clan wasn't nearly so bad. Niklaus had been in far more desperate situations in the past and had always managed to find his way out. Without proper nourishment, his chances of escape dwindled. It was a calculated strategy for any person kept in captivity, something taught in footnotes to those in nobility. Keep your prisoners weak and you will keep them as prisoners. It was a practice he knew was used in his own dungeons, he was not surprised it was exercised here as well.

He lay on his bed, his eyes staring blankly up to the bland brick of his ceiling. His right arm folded behind his head, his fingers of his left hand tapping lightly against his stomach. It was then as he was contemplating if asking for different literature would be too bold that he heard something. The hair on his arms raised as his mind raced and his ears strained to place the new sound; something unusual was in the depths of this dungeon. This new sound was delicate, careful, and so light it was almost no sound at all. A lingering tendril of rose scent floated through the air, and for only a moment and a small smirk tugged up at his lips. There was a woman in the dungeons. He turned his head towards the bars and focused his hearing on the mysterious footsteps growing nearer to him. From his time in captivity he knew that his cell was not located upon a popular route. People did not come down his hallway simply to pass by. Whoever it was, they were coming towards his cell intentionally.

The figure of a woman, dimmed by the dark slowly emerged from the hallway and stopped in front of the bars of his cell. The smell of Rosewater surrounded him and he took a heavy inhale of the scent trying to commit the pleasure that surfaced within him to his memory. The scent was light, buoyant and if he had ever believed a scent belonged to one woman it would be this one. Even with the darkness he could make out that she was strikingly beautiful. Her golden hair held the sun within its strands, her lips were plump, her lashes thick and dark fringing her eyes. He wished he could make out the exact shade of those elegantly sloped orbs. His fingers twitched against his stomach.

"I was not expecting you Princess," Niklaus said. Enjoying the startled look that settled upon her face. It had been a guess in all honesty, the Princess Caroline of Forbes he had remembered had been but a girl the last time he had seen her, the figure that stood in front of him was a woman.

"How did you know it was I?" she asked, her tone calm.

"A lucky guess. Perhaps." He answered, his mouth hitched up into a lazy half grin. "Perhaps I recognized you." He pushed himself up, his legs settling on the ground to face directly at her. With his feet planted on the ground and his hands gripping the edge of the bed it was difficult to gain the upper hand from behind a set of bars, but he certainly intended to try. "Now what I can't understand is why a Princess would deign to make it down this far into the dungeons. Are you lost?"

She frowned at him, almost as if she were disappointed by the words that he spoke. An uncomfortable pressure settled between his ribs and he fought the urge to look away from her gaze. She had no right to feign disappointment with him, what else could they possibly do to him? Torture? Death? "You'll find that I _am_ the one who asks the questions." Her voice was calm despite the rise and fall of her chest. He let his gaze drift down to the creamy ivory of her rising breasts. Her skin was so white, porcelain. The kind of unblemished silk that he had not seen since his time at court in his homeland. She was exquisite, and he wondered if the rest of her skin was as flawlessly perfect.

Niklaus did not stand. "My apologies Princess. I am unaccustomed to the presence of royalty."

She came closer to the bars and he tried to place the girl she once was to the woman standing before him. They did not connect. It was rumored that his father had intended Kol to be the only daughter of the Forbes clan's future husband. But now, seeing her before him he could not imagine them to be a happy match. She was too much for Kol.

"We both know that isn't true." His gaze snapped to hers as a hard look settled upon his face. Her eyes were dancing, her lips pulled up into a knowing smirk.

She knew.

They knew.

He rose, slowly, his jaw locked so tight it felt like he was trying to break off his teeth inside of his mouth. He swaggered forward one step, then two. Trying to both intimidate her and show her that her words had not affected him. "I hadn't heard any reports about you since your arrest was reported. From all accounts you've been a model prisoner. You've behaved rather well." He saw the small smirk that turned up the corners of her mouth.

Niklaus carefully spread his arms out to his side. "We do aim to please. Is this standard procedure here in Forbes? Do you go around telling every prisoner they've been good little boys." If the barb affected her she did not show it, it irritated him. He wanted to see her react, but she stood tall, unaffected. Glorious.

"Only when the moon is full," She quipped. Her eyes flicked down as she took another step forward wrapping her hand around the bars.

"The moon was full the night of my capture. It seems you're late."

"I've been busy." She said carelessly, nodding her head to the side. He found himself taking a step closer without even realizing it. Until they were merely a foot apart separated by the cold iron of the bars. She was taller than he expected, and he found that the angle of her face as she looked up into his made her look more handsome then any woman had the right too.

He reached out wrapping his fingers on one of the bars below hers. "I can imagine. With the balls, the smitten fops vying for your attention, making sure your hair looks just right?

"Oh all of the above," She placated breezily, his abdomen tightened at the saucy pout of her petal lips. He let his eyes settle there for a moment. He imagined chewing on those lips, of punishing her for her saucy mouth by withholding pleasure from her until she begged. "The same can be said for you I can see." He grinned. He shouldn't find her this amusing.

"I have a reputation to uphold after all sweetheart." If he was not mistaken she stumbled a little as the words tripped from his lips. She blinked, a few minute flutters of those dark lashes before she recovered. Now that he was closer he could see that they were blue, a light flawless cornflower blue that made him think of sunny days in the spring. Of lying among the due dropped grass and watching the sky pass him bye.

"Oh yes, quite the reputation." She mocked. "So tell me, why exactly does King Mikael want you dead so badly."

She had shocked him by her boldness, but he would not let her know that. He pressed his lips together tightly leaning forward until mere inches separated them. Should he tell her, the truth of his birth? That Mikael had legally named him as the binding heir to the throne before learning of his muddled bloodlines. It was a secret as well as his shame. They would never let a bastard rule the kingdom, they would never allow him home if they knew. Mikael would be shamed, the title stripped from the family and given to a cousin. Niklaus's future, the one he had been running to protect would have died before it ever had the chance to come to fruition. All of his possibilities, gone. The possibility of an alliance with the woman standing before him. The thought made the ache in his abdomen shift lower and he felt his cock stir at the thought of having her in his bed. She would be passionate. That he knew. Exquisite, he was sure. But he would never have the opportunity to take her for his wife if she were to know the truth.

No. He could not tell her.

She reached into the folds of her skirts and pulled something from her pocket with an elaborate flourish. She held it between them, level with his line of sight. It was a key, his eyes flicked between the heavy iron and her face. Her beautiful eyes watching his expression for any telltale signs. She would find one he would not allow it. "Tell me what I want to know and I will set you free."

As exhilarating as their volley for the upper hand was, he had not intention of letting her win. He pressed himself against the bars His face coming dangerously close to her own. Her eyes widened a fraction, but she did not retreat. Her eyes flicked down to his mouth and another stab of pleasure snapped through him.

Brave girl.

"Tempting love, but I find that I'm rather comfortable exactly where I am." He said before pushing back and giving her a satisfied grin.

She scoffed at him, her shoulders drawing up into an steely set. "And what are you willing to share?"

"Well my cot does get quite cold in the evening?" He was prodding now, intentionally trying to unman her.

She lowered her hand with the key and put it back into her pocket. "Very well," she said breezily. Her hard look showing him that he had not bested her after all. "I can wait for your answer. We have plenty of time you and I."

"Whatever pleases you princess?" With a mocking jab to their current surroundings he stiffened and lowered himself into a perfect bow. A bow that had been beaten and ingrained into him since the moment of his birth. If she had any doubts to his identity before, that one move only screamed the veracity of his upbringing. "It is customary for a royal to be presented, next time please send your card in advance to your arrival. I'd like to make myself presentable."

Her mouth tightened and satisfaction welled within him as his satire sunk. "Very well." She all but spat. She made a move to leave before stopping, lighting her chin high meeting his gaze him challenge. "It is also customary to address your betters correctly, I know you've been unrehearsed in social etiquette for some time so I'll give you a little helpful instruction. In the future you will address me by my proper title. Queen."

Shocked arched through him. King William was dead. The Forbes line was not burdened with the strict rules of passing the crown to a male heir. Caroline was a queen.

"My Queen." He said bowing again. This time his eyes never left hers as he sunk down. Heat charged the air between them. An electricity connecting the tension between them. Her cheeks flushed, her eyelashes fluttering. Before she angled her head tartly, humphing as she marched from his view.

He moved forward, wrapping his hands around the bars where hers had once been and listening to her soft footsteps retreat.

A devilish grin broke across his face as he heard her voice telling the guards to bring him something to eat immediately.

My Queen.

 _Not yet, love._

 _But you certainly will be._


	18. Royals II

Royals Part II

A/N: I had a request not too long ago for a continuation of my royals drabble. So here it is. My computer is acting weird so I can't post a link to the first one. Let me know what you think.

He woke to shouting.

The kind of distressed yelling that signaled something had gone terribly wrong.

A massive eruption of noise exploded around him and the walls shook with the force of the assault. Dust erupted in a mist as it rained down to the stone floor of his cell. The torches flickered in their stays. The iron of his bars moaning at the pressure inflicted upon them.

He was on his feet in an instant. His hand wrapped around the bars, trying to adjust himself just-so that he might get a peek of what was happening at the guard station. More shouting, instructions to stay put, to get upstairs, of questions asking what should be done.

Another massive eruption exploded and he felt his body teeter as the floor beneath his feet shifted. He recognized the destruction a well-aimed catapult he could inflict.

"You there!" He yelled down the hallway. To date he had never tried to summon one of the guards keeping steadfast watch over him. He had no need to, they brought him food and essentials without fail. He half expected that in the midst of the fray his entreaties would go ignored, but that did not stop him from trying. "Is anyone there?"

A few moments transpired in the mixed of the echoing chaos of the assault, before a figure manifested from the dark hallway. The man was young, impossibly fair, and built like any royal guard should be. He had the stature that could be imposing without the brutality necessary to enforce the point.

"What's going on?"

The man took no time to respond. "We're under attack."

Klaus let a biting laugh escape him as he cut his face towards the majority of the commotion. "I gathered that actually." He paused, a beat. "Who's leading the assault?"

"I'm not sure, word hasn't come down this far." Years of training pushed itself to forefront of Klaus's reactions. Of what to do if this situation ever occurred at his own home. Of where to go, on how to direct the guards, on the information he needed.

"Have they breached the castle walls?"

The man took a shaky breath. A breath that Klaus had spent enough time on the battle field to know meant bad news was to follow shortly. "Not yet, but it's imminent." Dread settled in his chest. The likelihood of maintaining control after any attack resulted in a break of the castles boundaries were miniscule. It would be like shooting an arrow blindly and expecting it to hit its mark. Forbes was a kingdom known for its benevolence, it had happy relations with all of the neighboring partners and prosperous trade on either side. There was only one nation with the audacity, or the motivation to captain such an attack. A wry smiled twitched at his lips, as war raged around them. It seemed his father had nearly found him. To catch him, that would be another matter entirely.

An uncomfortable thought vaulted through his mind as he turned his focus to the guard again. "And the Queen?"

The man shook his blonde hair, causing it to fall across his forehead, nearly shielding his eyes. "Her whereabouts are unknown." He could hear the fear there, the apprehension behind the man's attempt at nonchalance. His monarch's safety was in jeopardy, and he was unsure of what his actions should be. Caroline was loved by her subjects, and now they were missing their queen and facing the possibility that a new ruler may take her place. One that would not bring affluence to the country, only despair.

Klaus's time here had not been unpleasant. He was obviously housed in a dungeon so his surroundings had been decidedly dull, but guards had never crossed the thin line from watcher to torturer. His time was made increasingly more than tolerable after Caroline had started to slowly interrogate him. Her continued visits down to his cell had long since been not just about wanting to know why his father was hunting him and had become what one could call a unusual courtship. They teased each other relentlessly, played chess through the bars long into the night, he had even caught her staring a beat longer than necessary at his mouth when they had gotten into a particularly heated conversation regarding modern literature.

She was a vision among the dreary dark surrounding him, her angelic features and haloing light made the dungeons melt away. She made his time in captivity bearable, happy, daresay in the moments when they were sequestered alone even enjoyable. And now she was missing. His fondness had moved to something else, something deeper that he had long since accepted as genuine affection. As his thoughts strayed to Caroline, scared and alone another wave hit him square in stomach. Fear. Possessiveness.

There was no way he could allow anyone to get to her. To have her 'accidentally' killed in the fray, or worse to marry her off to one of the blustering imbeciles he called brothers.

She was his.

"Open the door."

The man looked taken aback as Klaus all bout growled out the words.

"What?"

"I said open the door." Unspoken messages passed between the two as he tried to bend the man's will with only his mind. "You know who I am don't you?" The man nodded, but did not move. Simply stared at Klaus as if waiting for him to continue. "This castle will fall without someone to lead it. Someone has to find the Queen. Open the door."

Moments ticked by like eternities, Klaus's frustration swelling to such a point he wanted to roar to relieve the pressure between his lungs.

Finally, the man reached down to the massive metal loop hanging from his trousers. Klaus felt himself sink with the release of his breath, watching as the key was placed in the lock and the door swung open. "Where are the rest of the dungeons guards?" Klaus said moving out of the cell that for months he had called his home.

"At their posts."

"Tell them to abandon their positions and move up to assist the others, if there are any prisoners you deem brutish enough to be of assistance I'd take them as well. You will need every able bodied man to help hold it."

"Is that wise? Releasing prisoners? We haven't been giving the orders…" The man trailed off as they walked down the alley that Klaus had not caught sight of since he had been first imprisoned and was being led to his cell.

"You'll find the loyalty to one's kingdom is a powerful motivator."

The man eyes narrowed slightly, but he did not argue Klaus's instructions. He did however angle his head to the side, eying Klaus with a questioning look.

"Then what are you doing helping us?" Klaus halted at the base of the heavy stone stairs leading up towards the upper floors, his eyes trailing towards his future path. He knew what the man meant, and it was confirmation enough that it was truly his father waging the attack on its closest neighbor in trade.

It didn't take him but a moment to respond. "There are some things more important than a kingdom." He paused, letting his meaning sink in. "Go, find the others. I'll find the Queen."

He bounded up the stairs, calling over his shoulders.

"And for God's Sakes keep them away from the Throne Room."

He had managed to case most of the Castle rather quickly. As the vast majority of the occupants were either fighting desperately to keep the Mikaelson army at bay or cowering in the servant's quarters it was easy to ascertain where she was, or more specifically where she wasn't. He had just made a quick scan of the massive ballroom when a flit of movement caught his eye. He stood still as a deer watching the movement before it finally reappeared and the slight figure of a woman dressed in a tattered dress and bonnet moved stealthily from alcove to the next. Queen Caroline of Forbes was either the best or worst at hiding.

Especially if she believed that anyone could be daft enough to believe she could use a simple chambermaids outfit to disguise herself.

A grin cracked across his face as he took into account the lush figure accentuated deliciously by the simple clothing. Klaus would know that arse anywhere.

He was stalking towards her in an instant, covering the ground between them soundlessly. She was peeking out of the alcove, making sure that the path remained clear when he came bodily against her wrapping his one arm around her tiny waist and using the other to clasp a hand over her mouth. She gasped at the contact, struggling against his hold. Fighting, he noted rather strongly for a woman of her size and upbringing. It took her a moment to get the leverage to turn enough to catch sight of her would be attacker. When her eyes met his, recognition dawned. The hand around her waist rose to pet gently against her head. "Shhhh. It's me, it's safe."

Relief bore unfiltered as he removed the hand from her mouth. Her breathing was labored, and it slowly became steady as he held her against him.

"How did you escape?" She said quietly, confusion making a brief appearance in her cornflower blue irises.

Klaus dipped his head behind him, checking to ensure that the hallway was still clear and the fort still held. "I don't think that that's the pressing issue at the moment love." He murmured. "The barricade won't hold much longer we need to get you to the Throne Room immediately."

She blinked, nodding her head slightly as she too chanced a glance down the hallway. Caroline was a vision, one that poets spoke about in their most tortured sonnets. He could easily take an inventory on the women of his acquaintance and find her at the top of the dreadfully long list. She could make even the humblest of rags look fit for, well, a Queen. But the bonnet, it was ghastly, and he missed the golden sunshine of her locks, he had long since wanted to see them in a proper light, to garner the exact hue, to see how if it positively glowed when being caressed by the warm rays of the sun. "What are you wearing?" He said snatching the garment from her head and tossing it to the ground.

An offended scoff issued forth from her petal lips. "It was essential to my disguise. I couldn't risk being recognized."

"Poppycock." He snorted.

"Excuse me?"

"I knew who you were the moment I laid eyes upon you." Her eyes softened, the way they did every time they shared some unspoken moment of unexpected truth. Klaus wanted to lean forward, to envelop her mouth with his to assure himself those lips were as soft and decadent as he had fantasized. A thought formed and he pressed. "Yes, that begs the second issue of where you've been? You should have remained in the throne room to protect the seat of your kingdom." He scolded a no nonsense look settled upon his face.

A flush blossomed upon her cheekbones as irritation flashed dangerously in her irises. "Do not reprimand me like a child. I know perfectly well what my responsibilities are given the circumstances."

He took a small miniscule step back, straining his ear towards the pounding from afar. "And yet you've been missing for enough time that your entire guard has noticed."

Caroline stood quiet before him, lips tightened down into a thin seam.

"What could have possibly been so important that you risked letting your enemy waltz into your unoccupied throne room and taking power?" This was her position, her most important occupation as the monarchy of Forbes. It was the first thing that they taught you when being groomed from reign. It was beaten and whipped and recited until if you bled it was those words that seeped from the wound.

"Someone had to light the torch to signal the kingdom of Lockwood." She said defiantly, letting her arms brace themselves before her.

Fury raged within him.

"You went outside the castle walls in the middle of an attack?" He had to stop himself from roaring, settling for a low growl that practically seethed from him.

"It was the only way to summon assistance." He had to resist the urge to reach out and shake her.

"Engage a guard. A servant, the stable boy. You'll find any number of individuals with enough affection for you to have taken up the task."

"There wasn't enough time, and I could not risk anyone else for such a mission. My kingdom is under attack, my people are dying. I know this castle, this land better than anyone. I was not seen. The signal has been lit. It's done."

She finished with a biting click to her teeth. The answering anger setting her features making her a picture of stubborn resistance. Her chin lifted as she spoke, assuredly, proudly. Klaus's mind raced to the number of things that could have happened to her. She could have been captured, tortured. She could have bloody well been killed. And here she was standing before him, daring him to tell her that her actions were not warranted. His heart clenched at the thought of her in pain, at the mercy of another. And he sent up and breathless prayer of thanks that she was standing before him in one piece.  
He moved forward the inches separating them, pressing his lips lightly to the smooth skin of her scrunched forehead. His hand moving up to delicately frame her face. "You foolish girl." He muttered into her skin. He angled his head nuzzling his face against her golden curls taking a deep inhalation of her honeyed scent. "You brave foolish girl."

She softened, letting her body sink into his own and he felt a soothing peace rise within him. Caroline was a compassionate Queen, a loyal Queen to her people even in the face of destruction. A Queen that any King would be proud to have at his side. His Queen.

He had every intention of working to curb her carelessness when they married. He was sure he'd be spending a good deal of his future exasperated with her antics. That was, if they lived through this.

A massive crash sounded followed by a symphony of screams and shouts. His body hardened as he looked behind him to the still empty hallway. Thunder rumbled from downstairs, the walls of the castle had finally bowed to the enemy's assault.

"Run." And with those words they were both streaming towards the Throne Room. Minutes passed as they ran side by side until they surged across the threshold and Klaus made quick work of slamming the heavy doors closed.

Caroline was already wrestling the massive beam towards the door and he jogged the last few steps to her. Together with a tremendous deal of effort they managed to lift the wood and secure it in the heavy iron of the barricade. Chest heaving Klaus's eyes bounced around the room, looking for anything they could use to protect themselves. "No matter what happens we must hold this room." He said urgently. His eyes caught sight of two swords hung decoratively on the wall and he was removing one from its sheath before he even comprehended the action.

Caroline's hands grabbed lightly on Klaus's arm, and he halted, staring deep into her troubled gaze. "You must leave. There's a passageway out of the castle behind the throne."

His eyes flicked desperately over her face as bewilderment assaulted him. "I'm not leaving you."

"You must." She stressed. "If they find you they will kill you. There will be no escape this time."

"Then I will die." He all but spat at her. How? How could she believe that he would leave her side at a time such as this.

"They will not harm me. I am a Regent, and they will barter." The muscle in his jaw tightened to the point where he thought his teeth would break off in his mouth. He knew what they would require if they came upon Caroline alone. His father would take the only thing that he thought a woman was capable of providing. An alliance with one of his sons. His mouth turned to ashe at the thought. Caroline deserved her free choice of husband, she was bestowed that right by her own father. He would rather die protecting that then to see her used as a pawn in his father's game.

"Absolutely not."

"Klaus!" She pleaded. Voices filtered through the door. Muffled but decipherable enough to know that his father's army was upon them. A shuddering bang echoed through the wood and the door shook violently at the assault. He took that moment, to look at her, at her wide scared eyes pleading for his safety and the place between his lungs swelled. If this was it, if this was what he would have left to remember her by in the afterlife he wanted to memorize every detail.

"In case we don't make it…" And with a single stride he was pulling her against him, his mouth capturing her surprised gasp with a satisfied groan at the taste of honeysuckle dancing on his tongue. Her arms wound their way in her hair as his mouth fused to hers. Until she greedily parted those perfect lips and her tongue danced with his own. She smelled crisp, clean, something he knew only as distinctly as Caroline and somehow completely new. The kiss was fast, hard, desperate. Both aware that they may not live past the next quarter hour and that this might be their last moment together. The long awaited climax to the hours spent playfully teasing, of learning each other's history, of forming an intimate bond deeper than the like that Klaus that had ever thought to hope for.  
If they lived through this, he had every intention of kissing Caroline at every single open opportunity.

The door splintered and Klaus whirled to face it, gently pushing Caroline behind him. He raised the sword pointing it directly at the door as the beam disintegrated and the wood parted. Caroline stood behind him, her hands fisted lightly in the back of his shirt, unknowingly giving him strength as he looked into familiar faces.

"Niklaus. How droll." Alaric quipped swaggering forward a few steps, the men behind him heaved the massive battering ram to the ground all but sneering in their direction. Klaus tracked him, the end of the sword following as the man that had long been his father's general shifted to Klaus's right. Alaric was groomed for the position of commander, and he relished in the deeds that he had to commit in order to ascend there. He was the cruelest sort of human, a man that his father admired without equal. New motivation welled within him as his mind focused on the warm presence at his back. Alaric would not put a single hand upon her. He would not allow it. "We've been looking for you."

Klaus gave him an ironic smile. "I've noticed."

"How fortuitous it is that we find you here. It's rather good luck wouldn't you say chaps?" The men behind Alaric chuckled as if on que. Klaus did not take his eye of Alaric to ascertain exactly which ones.

"Leave now." He spat at the man before him.

"But we've only just got here. That's hardly complimentary."

"You've attacked my kingdom without cause. You've entered my home without invitation. Speak your purpose and be gone." Caroline hands left his body and he felt the loss acutely. She moved to Klaus's side to address Alaric directly, every bit the composed Queen that he had known she would be staring into the face of evil.

"I'd hardly consider it without cause, as you are harboring a fugitive under your very roof." Alaric tittered, moving a few more steps to the right. Klaus moved instinctively, letting the man know that he knew perfectly well that he was attempting to flank them, and he was having none of it.

"You have committed an act of war." Caroline said forcefully.

The sadistic bastard had the audacity to laugh.

"The wars over. I don't know if you've noticed but there's nothing left of your army."

"Speak your purpose or leave." Klaus reminded him, his hand shaking for the continued weight of the sword held elevated between them.

Alaric smug face made an expression as if were considering the options before shifting back towards the left. Klaus moved with him. "Very well. We'll leave." Caroline let out an infinitesimal disbelieving breath. Klaus stood stoic, knowing that there was a catch. There was always a catch. "If you surrender Niklaus over to us. We'll be on our way."

"Never." The words were said with such force, such passion that Klaus couldn't help but look at the goddess at his side. Her face was severe, protective, alight. An arch coursed through his body and he knew. He knew without a doubt.

He was in love with her. He was in love with this brave, stubborn, beautiful, intelligent woman and he'd never even noticed.

"Then we'll have to kill you both."

Klaus was too busy staring at the face of the woman he loved to comprehend the hard smile that had settled upon her lips gaze fixed directly before her.

"I wouldn't count on it." His brow furrowed as her mouth pursed up into a satisfied smirk. "Look behind you."

Klaus's head turned in time to see Alaric whirl. A sea of Emerald and Silver waved behind him, dozens of soldiers with weapons drawn and pointing directly at the small group of men. The unmistakable colors of the kingdom of Lockwood filled the hallway like rose of deadly flowers, waiting patiently to inflict their justice. Standing at their front, looking as imposing as he could stood the King himself. Weapon drawn, his gaze fixed on Alaric with a murderous expression.  
One by one, Klaus watched his countrymen drop their weapons. Surrendering to the army before them on bended knee. Alaric screamed his protest. "Pick up your weapons you cowards. You fight until you die." His yells fell upon deaf ears, until it was only him standing between the army of Lockwood, and the man willing to die for the Queen of Forbes.

King Lockwood made a quick movement with his hand and several members of his guard descended upon Alaric, he fought, for the only moment he had the opportunity before he was firmly encased. His body shaking as he fought to free himself. Klaus let his sword drop his hand reaching out unconsciously to wrap itself around Caroline's waist and bring her to his side. She sunk into him and he took a shaking breath at the feeling of her small hand resting against his chest. "Take him to the dungeons." Caroline said steadily. And with practiced flawlessness one by one the men were paraded down the hallway and out of sight.


	19. Mates

25 Days of Klaroline - Day 16: Mates

 **A/N: So I decided to do something a little different! Even though I know mates is in reference to soul mates. But I wanted to put a unique spin on my drabble and use one of the other possible meanings for mates. Hope you like it!**

There were many things that Klaus Mikaelson had learned about Caroline Forbes since he had met her after she was hired as his event consultant.

Hired by his relentless nag of a sister to get his current exhibit at his downtown gallery into enough shape to be deemed a Mikaelson event. "It was an opening after all Nik." She had said and then with a flick of her blonde hair over her shoulder she had sashayed her way to meddle the way only Bekah could. Without asking for permission at all from the person who owned the gallery. Hybrid galleries were world renowned, but apparently artistic notoriety was the equivalent of infant town frolic to his baby sister. So without wanting, or needing the help whatsoever that was how Miss Caroline Forbes from Virginia came to be in his employ.

Well not entirely.

If he hadn't been so blasted irritated he might even be looking forward to handing over the reins to an event that had long ago become a pain in his arse.

So when she flounced in all bouncy hair and beaming smile, and that slight lilt to her voice to say he was caught off guard would be the understatement of the century.

The first thing he learned about Caroline Forbes.

1\. She was stunning.

Breathtakingly stunning. She had the kind of beauty that artists dreamed of capturing, with curving lips that begged to be sucked, and long fringed lashes framing the most beautiful pair of blue eyes he had ever had the chance to gaze into. It startled him how profoundly it affected him the first time she bounced through his office door. From that moment he was enraptured with her. He had every intention of telling Rebekah's friend that he had no interest in having someone come in to organize anything, but the moment he saw her he found himself acting so completely out of character that he asked her to sit, and even told her that he was glad she was available.

He was certain that his initial infatuation would flounder after he had spent prolonged periods of time with her in the planning. But as time passed he found himself more and more intrigued by the woman she was. He didn't even try to argue with himself when he found that one of her teeth was crooked. It made her more endearing, and it was becoming bloody difficult to ignore. Especially when she was yelling at him face flaming and curls mussed from having bunch her hands into it.

2\. Caroline Forbes had a bit of temper.

"Are you even listening to me?" She spat hotly, hands bracketed on her hips as she stared down to where he sat slouching in his office chair. He blinked several times, trying to find it in him to look sheepish at being caught staring at her and not listening to her, again. But not having it in him. His eyes tripped to the clock on his desk reading the time well after eight o'clock.

"I'm sorry love, I'm knackered. Do you think we can call it a night?"

"Absolutely not. The opening is tomorrow night Klaus. And right now, it's looking like it's going to be an total failure if you don't focus and we get this done."

3\. Caroline Forbes was a perfectionist.

His eyes caressed the same seating chart that he'd been looking at for days. He couldn't find it in himself to argue. He sighed heavily, leaning forward to rest his elbows upon his desk.

"Of course sweetheart. Where were we?"

She gave him a glowing smile that reached down inside his chest and squeezed his lungs. He had to take a moment to remember to breathe.

4\. When it came to Caroline Forbes, he was absolutely fucking whipped.

It hadn't happened slowly. It happened all at once. From the moment she was hurtled into his life like a freight train he had been absolutely besotted with the blonde and made a proper mess of trying to hide that fact. His secretary knew, his partner Marcel knew, bloody hell he was even pretty sure that she knew, though she had never given him any indication that she did.

Her laugh, her intelligence, her smile, not to mention the way she unknowingly catches her lip between her teeth like she was doing right now and driving him bonkers.

"I'm sure this will be wonderful Caroline. I don't think we have anything to worry about."

"But I want it to be perfect…" She trailed off.

5\. See number 3.

She was standing across the desk from him, her hair pushed behind both ears, her doe eyes blinking at him, her lips parted slightly as she stared at him. The moment his eyes caught hers he couldn't look away. His eyes traced her eyes, her lips, the curve of her cheek.

Just like he had thousands of times since he met her he wanted to kiss her desperately.

She blinked a few times before catching his eyes once more.

Dear lord did he want to kiss her.

6\. It almost seemed like she wanted to kiss him right back.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he stood, bringing his face slightly higher than her own. Both of their hands resting upon the extremely detailed seating chart sprawled across his desk, merely inches apart. She blinked up at him, angling her face barely to the side. All he would have to do was lean forward, just a few inches and he'd finally taste her.

"It will be. You've been at it all day, and I haven't seen you eat a thing. Let's get some food and we'll hit it again yeah?"

7\. She tended to forget to eat when she was obsessing about number 3 and 5.

A shrill ringing was his only answer. It took him a moment to realize what was happening, it wasn't until Caroline blinked away did he realize that it was his phone that was ringing.

"Hello?" He said a little forcefully.

"Oi, you wanker what you doing?" his brother's voice quipped into his ear.

"Nothing you tosspot." His brother laughed at that, and he watched as Miss Forbes took a few small steps away from the desk in order to give him the illusion of privacy. "What do you want Kol?"

"Wanted to see if you wanted to get a pint at the local."

"I can't I'm still at the office with the event planner." He winced, he honest to god winced as the words trickled from his mouth.

"Having a shag then? You should have told me. Is she taking new clients?"

"Shove off, it's not like that. We're just mates."

Mates.

Mates.

Mates? He wondered why he didn't just punch himself in the bleeding face while he was at it. Out of all the things in the world he wanted to be to Caroline Forbes. Mates wasn't even close to one of him.

8\. Caroline Forbes was not his mate.

"What a pity, call me when you're released. Yeah?"

"Yeah." And with that he hung up the phone, directing his attention back to the intoxicating woman before him. "Sorry about that, my brother has a nasty habit of being obnoxious."

She gave him a small smile.

"It's not a problem. Maybe you're right. Maybe we've been at it too long."

Disappointment welled within him as he watched her walk over to where her jacket and purse had been flung at almost ten o'clock this morning. "Of course let me walk you out." He moved around the desk to help her shrug into her coat. Her eyes widened a fraction as he she turned in his arms. He took his time with folding the collar of the thick black wool down and smoothing it into place.

"You know what no." She said hotly throwing up her hand in exasperation.

He dropped his hands, taking a step back instantly. It was an innocent enough gesture, but he had no intention of making her feel uncomfortable if she did not wish it. He opened his mouth to apologize.

He was cut off when her lips pressed against his.

He didn't even have time to thank the stars for his good fortune. His hand came up to cup her face.

9\. She tasted like honey, the sweetest richest honey.

Her lips felt like velvet against his own. He kissed her, once, twice. A breathy moan escaped her as she melted into him grabbing him harder as she pressed every inch of herself to him. His arms tightened around her waist, crushing her to him as his mouth slanted over hers. The kiss grew more and more intense with every moment, the need to be inside of her pulsing through him.

10\. She was kissing him.

Pulling away slightly. Questioningly. His eyes searched hers, memorizing every facet, every blemish, the slope of her cheek, the tilt to her lips. Desire, a blue effervescent fire that held him captive, her chest heaving. She wanted him, she wanted him desperately.

"So. Mates huh?"

He grinned as his mouth dipped back down to hers.

"Something like that."


	20. Rivals

She knew this was going to happen.

Klaus Mikaelson.

She had to work with Klaus Mikaelson. Again.

Stefan was dead. LITERALLY dead. She didn't care if he was the best publicist this side of the president.

Klaus Mikaelson was a deal breaker.

"I'm not doing it." She said tartly walking angrily down the hallway from her dressing room.

"You can't really back out now Care. The movie required you two to attend awards shows together. You knew this."

"Yeah that was before."

"I know there is history." Stefan said attempting to appease the infuriated blonde thundering down the crowded hallway.

"There is no history. Nothing. There is nothing between us, there was nothing between us, there will never be anything between us. Ever. Not after what happened."

"But to be honest it wasn't really his fault." Caroline stopped dead in her tracks, turning with perfectly timed slowness as she faced Stefan. If the murderous look on her face didn't clue him in that he was about to die, then nothing would.

"I'm sorry. What exactly wasn't his fault? The highly publicized date that humiliated me to no end, or the fact that the next day the tabloids had nothing but pictures of Hayley-what's-her-face plastered all over him on the cover? Which part of that wasn't his fault?"

A lilting accent sounded from behind her. "Neither actually." The hair on her arm pricked as his familiar voice washed over her.

She gritted her teeth in irritation. It didn't even take her a moment to respond. "Of course. The prodigal son could never do anything remotely wrong. Isn't that right?" She barely spared him a glance as she shot Stefan a hard glare and turned to continue her march.

"I'm perfectly capable of admitting my indiscretions when I have done something that warrants it, in this case, I haven't."

"Oh my god!" She scoffed nearing the edge of the stage, her head shaking in disbelief.

"If you'd simply let me explain…"

"Caroline, the least you could do…"

She turned at the edge of the brightly lit stage, not meeting either of their eyes as she spoke breezily. "Let's get this over with."

They had the sense not to argue. At least for a moment. "As you wish, sweetheart."

She rolled her eyes so hard it was mildly uncomfortable.

She took a deep breath, pasting a fake smile onto her face before looping her arm in Klaus's and emerging into the blinding light. She bounced as they walked, the crowd exploding with applause and screams as they caught sight of who was coming on to stage. The waved and smiled until the audience managed to calm down enough for them to talk. Caroline did her best to ignore the massive presence of Klaus from her left. Instead she leaned forward into the microphone her eyes skimming the prompter in front of her.

"A kiss is something that holds so much more than words alone could communicate." She leaned back. Klaus leaned forward, coming forward to take her place at the microphone.

"To be nominated for the year's best kiss means one thing and one thing only. Passion."

Caroline moved forward again. "This year's nominees for best kiss know a thing or two about locking lips. And as last year's winner's we would know."

The crowd erupted again. She laughed, a genuine one that time as she waved some more and attempted to get them to calm down.

They were having none of it. She glanced at Klaus, bemusedly, maybe trying to ascertain if he really could believe what was going on, that a year had passed and the obsession with the vampire couple they had played was still as alive as ever. Their eyes locked, her smile fell.

A millisecond passed before Klaus moved forward, his hand cupping her neck before he brought her mouth to his. Caroline's eyes closed, her mind blanked as stars flew behind her eyes. Oh god how could she have forgotten? This. This is why she hated him so much. Because despite the arrogance, the conceit, the gaggle of girls that followed him around, and the rumors every time he set foot in the same room as a female, when he kissed her she felt like she could fly. Like she could do anything. Like there could have been something more. Electricity arched through her body as her arms flung around his neck. Pulling him closer.

All the sudden he stepped away.

She blinked at him, stunned.

The deafening roar of the crowd registered in her brain.

A cocky smile spread across his face as he waved at the crowd to calm down.

An angry flush stained her cheeks.

He leaned over, his nose skimming the flesh behind her ear. "Now that I missed."

Her heart dipped. Rat Bastard.


	21. Drabble Prompt: Klarolinedreamcatcher

Drabble Request by Klarolinedreamcatcher.

 **Basically this right here is how The Originals should have gone down. Enjoy :)**

He knew that this would happen. He knew the minute he opened himself up that someone would be there, in the darkness, lurking, waiting. Waiting for his weakness, waiting to rip it all away from him. So far in his 1000 years Klaus had cared for nothing, save his family. But they were Originals, and unless someone managed to scrounge up another white oak stake, they could not be killed. For 1000 years Klaus had been without vulnerability, without remorse, without feeling. Until now.

He knew this would happen.

For all intents and purposes, life was going considerably well. He had begun his siege of the city and reveled in the devious manipulations he constructed. Even now his plans were unfolding around Marcel, around the witches. His family were here, united behind their brother in his quest to take back their home. And most of all, she was here. She had come to him.

He still couldn't quite believe it.

When Rebekah had called him he would never thought it possible. That anyone in this city would have the audacity to act against him. But he knew, didn't he? She was invaluable to him, anyone with eyes could see that. Which made her invaluable to any person out there who called themselves Klaus's enemy.

His tone was light, pleased even when he slid the unlock button across the screen of his phone and pressed it to his ear. "Hello Little Sister."

By the tone of her voice, he could tell something was seriously wrong. "Nik." One word, one word was all it took.

His body immediately tensed, his face dropping from the playful smile that seemed to be common place as of late. He spun around his eyes bouncing around the sidewalks of the French Quarter searching for a potential threat. "What has happened?"

His sister's words rang through the phone, coursing through his body—seeping into his bones. "It's Caroline." If his heart had beat before, it would have stopped on the spot. "She's sick. Really sick. Her skin is boiling hot, I've never seen anything like it."

Panic welled up inside of him and he quelled it as his mind raced. "I'm on the way."

"Nik?" He didn't respond, waiting for her to continue. Another three seconds passed before he began walking towards St. Ann Street. His strides were hurried, rushed, but he wasn't going to waste any more time. He had to move. "It isn't just Caroline."

He wove around a table of women chatting animatedly with each other. "Get to the point Rebekah."

"Sophie Devereaux turned up out of the blue. Same symptoms, sweat everywhere it's really rather disgusting."

"Rebekah." Klaus growled as he jogged across Royal Street. Could she take nothing seriously?

"Apparently her coven of witches decided that we weren't doing our job of overthrowing Marcel fast enough. They want us gone Nik. They, tied Caroline to Sophie somehow, some sort of knotting spell. Then they injected Sophie with some sort of Vampire poison. Liquid life she called it. Since Caroline is already dead…"

"It'll kill her." Blood rushed through his ears as he picked up his pace. "How do we stop it?" As he turned the corner onto St. Ann he motioned for his driver to start the car before wrenching open the door and climbing in.

"There's this knot that she brought with her, she says that it's what is holding the spell. Lot of rubbish if you ask me. It simply has to be undone, by a witch."

"And why haven't you held her down and tortured her until she undid the spell?" Rage was seeping into him. Anger at the witches, at Rebekah, at Marcel, at his goddamn driver. The hybrid inside of him flared to life pushing against the walls of his control and begging to be released. How perfect it would be to let go, lose control and destroy everything within sight. But he didn't have time for that; he had to get to Caroline.

"You don't think I've tried that? Apparently you need more than one witch for this kind of spell. It takes too much power for one person to do, she might kill herself and that would…" She didn't continue. Klaus agreed that was best. The possibility hung in the air, _if she dies, so will caroline_.

"And if we can't unbind them in time?"

"They'll both die. Apparently faced with the possibility of death the tarty witch got cold feet. "The black suburban flew along the streets like a rocket, breaking every single traffic law this god forsaken city had. He didn't care, none of that mattered anyway. This city would soon be his. His gaze shifted out to the dusky orange of the setting sun against the horizon. The thought welled up in his mind. _Who cares if you take the city. What will it be without her?_

"Keep the witch there. Do not let her out of your sight, do you understand me?'

Irritation filtered through the speakers. "Yes, Nik."

"It seems like we are in need of some witches…" He paused, "Or one very powerful witch. Call Elijah. It seems we'll be using his friendship with Davina to our advantage after all." He didn't bother saying goodbye; instead he threw the phone down on the seat next to him in frustration. He tilted his wrist to catch the time on his watch face. 7:25. He wouldn't be able to make it to Caroline for another 20 minutes.

Caroline. Oh god. Caroline.

He knew this would happen.

His jaw clenched at the thought of her in pain.

"DRIVE." He yelled.

******EVERYTHINGISKLAROLINEANDNOTHINGHURTS*******

Elijah walked across the wooden floor with purpose. The low heel of his dress shoes making resounding clacks as he progressed towards the stairwell. With the knot kept safely inside his suit jacket he prayed that he could convince Davina to help them. She was no fan of Niklaus, though truth be told it was easier to count the people who were fans of his brother rather than the people who had found themselves his enemy. Over the last 1000 years he had made more foes than anyone had the right too. But he was his brother, and things, well, things were changing – Niklaus was changing. For 1000 years Elijah had prayed for this day, the day when Niklaus found something, something other than himself to care for. He knew exactly what Caroline meant for his brother, his redemption.

He could not fail.

He jogged up the stairs and walked towards the door that held Davina's room.

He took a moment to compose himself before he knocked lightly. Without waiting for a response he pushed open the door to the well-lit attic. It hadn't changed since he had been released, except for the canvas set up directly next to the bed which today held a different set of undecipherable black markings.

Davina turned, paintbrush in hand. Upon catching sight of him her face broke into a pleased grin.

"Elijah."

His face must have given away his current predicament because as quickly as it came, her smile melted away.

He took a deep breath before speaking, knowing full well the young girl before him could torture him mercilessly without batting a single eyelash. "I need your help."

******EVERYTHINGISKLAROLINEANDNOTHINGHURTS*******

He tore through the house like a madman. Jumping out of the suburban before it even came to a full stop. He extended his hearing and located his sister's voice around the back of the house. Within moments he was there eyes scanning the outer courtyard for her. For his light.

She sat at the pools edge, eyes glazed, hair mussed, a shell of her usual vibrant self. The sight alone slayed him. He flashed to her side kneeling beside her, his hand lightly coming up to stroke the porcelain skin of her cheek. Heat assaulted his fingertip from where his skin met hers. "Caroline?"

It was like she was in a trance, disconnected from the world around them. Paralyzing fear welled up inside of him. His hand threaded through her golden curls and turned her beautiful face to his, but no recognition flared as her eyes met his.

"She's been like that for about ten minutes now." Rebekah said from one of the lawn chairs.

She was warm. Too warm. Something had to be done. He ripped off his jacket. "She's burning up. Do something now." His eyes moved to the witch standing to the side of the pool meekly, looking as if she was on the verge of fleeing.

She could try, but she wouldn't get far.

He flashed to her grabbing her harshly and growling. "DO SOMETHING NOW."

"Get her in the water." Sophie finally said, bending down to retrieve something from a bag at her feet. Klaus strode back to Caroline and scooped her up into his arms. She was as light as a feather. He had marveled before at how slight she was. The countless times he had tossed her over his shoulder to take her to bed. As he pressed her against a wall and she wrapped her legs around his waist in ecstasy. They had joked. She had scoffed and rolled her eyes. He had smiled at her cheek.

Now she was too small, too frail.

He made no attempt to remove his shoes, instead he walked directly into the cool water, submerging them both into the liquid.

"I don't see how a midnight swim is going to help?" Rebekah had stood, walking towards the edge of the pool as Klaus waded deeper.

Sophie jumped over the side into the water, shuffling towards them her hand raised in the air. "Our temperatures are sky high. The water, with the help of the herbs should cool us down." She didn't sound particularly confident. His nerves grated at the possibilities.

Sophie finally worked her way over to them and opened her palm to reveal a tuft of what looked like dry grass. "She needs to eat this, we have to get her heart rate down." Caroline didn't respond to Sophie's words, simply stared lifelessly across the surface of the water. Klaus's chest clenched.

"This is never going to work." Rebekah's outburst was not appreciated nor needed.

"How do you suggest I do that?" Sophie had the impudence to look irritated by his words. She was lucky she was connected to the woman in his arms or he would rip off her head right here and now.

"Hold her, it's a natural remedy to slow the heart rate and reduce blood pressure." Klaus shook his head, _Hold her? That was the witches brilliant plan?_ Couldn't she see how tightly he held her to him already? Couldn't she see that he couldn't let her go even if he wanted too? They forced the grass between Caroline's rose petal lips. Moments later she wailed in agony, her screams bouncing against the walls of the house and into the dim night air.

"It's too soon. We need more time."

Rebekah for the first time since he arrived chose to be optimistic. "Elijah will convince Davina, if anyone can it is him. We just need a little more time."

******EVERYTHINGISKLAROLINEANDNOTHINGHURTS*******

"There is no way that I am helping your brother Elijah. I hate him. He's a monster and deserves everything he gets. I will never ever help you. EVER."

Elijah was getting nowhere. He did his best to keep a tight grasp on his hope, but things were going decidedly downward fast.

"Please Davina, you don't understand. This is different. If you don't help us an innocent girl will die."

"An innocent girl? I hardly think someone who chose to hang around your brother willingly is innocent." But she didn't know Caroline. Caroline was goodness personified. Caroline would feel guilt in hurting a fly let alone another person.

"She didn't ask for this. She was chosen. As a tool, as a device by the members of your old coven. Just like you were. The witches chose her, as a sacrifice to hurt my brother. She's scared, she's alone, and if you don't help her she is going to die." At his words uncertainty flickered across Davina's face. He knew that he had touched on the girl's primary anger and sadness. He had to exploit this. It was the only way to save her. It was the only way he could save his brother. "If you stand idly by, and you do nothing. You will be exactly like those people who watched as your friends were murdered. You will have become them with your inaction."

She turned in a huff walking towards the open window and looking down the street towards Jackson Square.

"And what about your brother? He just gets what he wants when he wants it? I won't help him. I won't work for him. It would be worse than letting the witches control me."

"Caroline her name is Caroline." It seemed wrong to refer to her so inanimately. He had to make her see. Somehow. Someway. "Niklaus is a complicated man. I myself have hated him a time or two over the years. I have wept for his misdeeds, for his atrocities, for the humanity that I craved to see within him. When I was moments away from giving up and abandoning him I'd see flickers of it, and my hope would be restored and I'd continue to stay by his side. Mere flickers. A look, a frown, a genuine smile. That's all. I vowed to stand with my family forever. So when I tell you that I had never begun to hope for what I've seen within the last couple of weeks, I need you to believe me. He's changing. He's kinder, lenient, benevolent, lighthearted. This woman has opened up a place inside of him that I have not seen since I was human. She is his redemption, his salvation. She is the only way that I am ever going to get my brother back. If she dies, not only will his wrath know no bounds, but those shreds of humanity that she was able to weave back together will be gone forever."

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke. He felt no shame in them.

"I am asking you. Please for me. Please save her. Please save my family."

He dropped to his knees. An ancient sign of defeat, of submission, of deference. He gave himself completely over to her mercy. To the kindness and fairness that he knew rested inside of her. He let his misery seep through him, his desperation, willing her to reach inside of him and feel his attachments.

He surrendered everything about his character and person at that moment. He kept his head bowed, even when he felt her reach inside of him to verify his words.

"You would be willing to sacrifice yourself for his happiness?"

He brought his gaze to hers and easily said the most truthful words he had ever spoken. "Yes."

He waited for her to rebuke him. To laugh. To counter his words with her refusal. How would he face Niklaus after this? How would he be able to tell his brother that he had failed him? Niklaus would not be able to bear her death. He would be lost…

"Give me the knot."

Relief flooded through him. He reached into his jacket.

******EVERYTHINGISKLAROLINEANDNOTHINGHURTS*******

Caroline continued to gasp in agony. He almost preferred her catatonic state. He could not abide the sight of her in pain. It shredded him. It made him want to kill. It made him want to destroy. "I…..can't…. breathe…." He pushed the rising panic down, he had to remain calm.

"Caroline, Long deep breathes. Look at me." He waited for her to comply, finally after what seemed like ages her blue eyes locked with his own. They were so beautiful, so pure, so clouded with pain. "Focus on the sound of my voice sweetheart. It's going to be okay." He lightly dipped her head back into the water, his hand brushing the wet tendrils tenderly away from her face.

Her gasping breathes subsided momentarily. And for a moment, he thought that it had passed, that she had returned to him. That was until her body convulsed and she let out a scream that he recognized instantly. A scream that a person only emitted when they were experiencing the most intense pain they will ever encounter. A scream that he would admit he had elicited forth from countless victims over the years. With his love of murder still intact, he could honestly say he wasn't sure he could revel in the sound after this, it would remind him of her, of this moment. Of watching her drift away from him.

He gripped her tighter as she thrashed against him.

She couldn't die.

He wouldn't let her.

A gust of air erupted around them and then settled into stillness. Unnatural stillness. Caroline's eyes fluttered open, searching around the courtyard as if she had no idea how and when she had arrived there. Sophie's hand dove into her pocket before reemerging with a needle. She pricked her finger and his nostrils flared as they filled with the scent of fresh blood. He lightly set Caroline's feet to the bottom of the pool before threading his fingers with her own. He knew those porcelain hands like he knew his own. And the overwhelming crush of relief that flooded him when he saw no mark marring her beautiful skin nearly crippled him.

He couldn't keep himself together any longer. He set his lips to hers, kissing her with every single emotion that was throwing a Mardis Gras within him. The relief, the anger, the joy, the fear. The fear was overwhelming. He needed to touch her, to consume her. Only to be sure that she was still here – still with him – that he hadn't lost everything. Their lips tangled into a searing kiss that stole his breathe from his lungs.

He had waited 1000 years for her.

She was his everything. She always has been. She always will be.

He lightly lifted her up again before carrying her up the steps of the pool towards the house. Her body was wracked with exhaustion, she needed rest, and he would make certain that she got all that she needed.

The Devereaux witch followed on his heels clearly under the impression that pestering him when he was on the verge of leveling half of the city was a brilliant idea.

"I know you have no reason and that you don't owe me anything but I need your word you won't kill the other witches for this. They are the only way we can access our powers."

Klaus Mikaelson did not do well with demands. He gingerly placed Caroline on her feet, making sure she was steady before turning to Sophie and closing the distance between them.

"You are fortunate that I don't find every single person your coven of witches have met. Every person they loved, laughed with, cried with, celebrated with and tear their spines out through their mouths, dance in their blood, and burn their bodies. Make sure they keep that in mind if they EVER try and threaten me again. There will be consequences for this night, that much is certain, but right now the witches are the least of my concern."

His dismissed her with a flash of his hybrid side across his features. She winced before shrinking back quietly. He then turned back to Caroline.

His Caroline.

Gently lifting her into his arms he headed through the doors of his house towards his chambers.


	22. The Allure of Darkness

**A/n: Harry Potter/Klaroline AU that I've promised for ages. Hope you enjoy. Please see the video on my tumblr to see the inspiration.**

He was in a particularly nasty mood as he scowled dispassionately into the crackling fireplace. Two weeks of work, HIS work ripped out from under him for no reason. He had laid the ground work, he had spent the time planning and calculating his attack, and on the eve of his great triumph. Where he would finally ascend out of his father's grisly shadow, the Dark Lord ordered him to stay behind. His thoughts turned to their earlier conversation and his lips curled in frustration.

"My Lord. Everything is set for tonight's mission." He kneeled before the massive figure, his head bowed in respect.

"Very good Niklaus, you're proving much more useful then I originally anticipated." He rose then, standing and murmuring a simple thanks as the thin red slits of Voldemort's eyes analyzed him. Resisting the urge to shift under the Dark Lord's penetrating gaze, he refused to show weakness. After all, he had more pride then his cursed father. So he waited, eyes locked with arguably the most powerful wizard of his time.

"When your team return to you with the news of their victory please then deliver it to me."

"My Lord, as soon as I return I will come directly to you for an audience." A cold mirthless smile reached his lips and Klaus wondered if there had ever been a real smile there at all.

"No Niklaus, Draco will be leading your mission tonight. Your team will deliver the news to you. And I expect you to wait eagerly to receive them." His team? Understanding finally washed over him and a quiet outrage slowly consumed every facet of his body. No change formed in his calm outward demeanor, not even a flinch. A flinch, he assumed Voldemort had been waiting for. Instead he inclined his head slightly.

"Yes my Lord. I shall inform the others in the change of procedure and instruct them what to do in my stead." Without another word he bowed to the man before turning curtly on his heel and leaving for what was once the Coward Lucius Malfoy's study.

Perhaps this was a test. A mere observational experiment to see how deep his loyalties lie. To see if unlike his father he was willing to obey orders for the greater good. Despite the setback he knew if that were the case, Klaus had won a very small victory with his actions. Maybe not the illustrious infamy of a perfectly executed raid that he had hoped for, but a step towards a more trusted position.

The gold of his wrist watch glinted in the dancing firelight and with a heavy sigh he checked the time again. 2:23am. They were late. He shifted uncomfortably in the plush high back chair and wished for the 1000th time since they had left that he could have been with the. Scenario after scenario replayed in his mind of grueling disaster in which could not be fixed. If the men were to fail, Niklaus would surely be handed the blame. Yet if the Dark Lord truly was testing him it would be less than that if he had lead the men and had faced certain failure. In no way was the thought of receiving the Cruciatous Curse appealing, especially for something he had no opportunity to alter.

Klaus closed his eyes and let his mind wander, imaging exactly how his chess game were to have played out had he been permitted to attend. Leaping over stone walls, firing curses courageously fighting with more determination then a challenged troll and more wit then a scholarly elf. A small smile touched his lips as one of his curses accurately hit one of the Weasley's and he ran away screaming like a little girl.

And, just like that she was there.

Fighting off two death eaters that buck toothed mudblood by her side. Her eyes caught his briefly and a sharp pain settled itself between his lungs. He opened his own, choosing to stare into the licking flames then to endure the sight of her face. It had been almost five months now. Five months and he still remembered every detail of her. He wished he could stop thinking about it. He knew that he should have long since forgotten all about her. But to that day she still lingered in his thoughts, still haunted his dreams. He kept reminding himself that she was the one who left him, she was the one who walked away, who had chosen the opposite side. But no manner of thought could convince him that it hadn't happened only yesterday. He could still feel her lithe body next to his, the smell of her perfume on his pillow in the night. Merlin he'd still wake up reaching for her to grasp nothing but air. Her memory taunted him, while he slept he dreamed of her.

It wasn't just of the intimacy they shared. It was the little things that wouldn't seem to leave him be. The way she sang, how she would chew on her lower lip when she was thinking, the brilliance of her smile, her golden hair cascaded across the black satin of his sheets.

If it would only stop there.

It never did, because he'd remember the way she kissed. The softness of her skin as he caressed her, the decadent taste of her mouth. The adorable pout she gave him when he woke her too early. It was a relentless cycle. A relentless torture.

Luckily he had been busy enough to escape her memory during the day. The planning for tonight had done a suitable job of keeping his thoughts occupied. But at night time he had no escape from her, and if he were a weaker man he probably would have already lost his mind.

His thoughts moved once more to that night and a nagging unwelcome voice filled his mind. He had been most upset for his absence from tonight activities because he had missed his chance to see her, even if only for an instant. He had convinced himself that it was only to prove that she wasn't the siren that he had coveted all this time, but deep down he wasn't so sure.

There was something about Caroline Forbes that he could not shake. Some part of her that had stuck with him and wouldn't leave. Rejection he concluded wordlessly. He wanted her because he couldn't have her, because she had left him in the entrance hall to his families' manor and not the other way around.

Whatever it was, this silly little infatuation with someone who was most definitely the enemy had to end. It was only Caroline, the little girl he had known since he was a mere lad of six. The one he had shipped off to America to protect her from his father's wrath.

His father. Mikael would have beaten him senseless for such nostalgic thoughts. Honestly, what did his father know about women? Mikael and Esther barely tolerated each other and he was much to consumed with his own grandiose to care about anyone's else's needs other than his own. They did not look at each other the way Caroline had looked at Klaus. Klaus had already proven on one account that he was no way like his father. Lust, humility, and obedience were something a violent pureblood like Mikael never considered even in the face of his own death. Klaus was perfectly aware of his position, and what he had to atone for in his father's callous reputation. He had a duty.

BAM.

The sound echoed around the room causing Niklaus to jump to his feet his wand drawn and his ears perked for another sound. The heavy crystal chandelier swayed ominously above him a thin layer of dust descending down over his stiff figure. For several long moments he heard nothing, but the chandeliers dull sway verified that he couldn't have just imagined it. The world seemed to slow as he extended himself outside the manor, searching for a sign of the clattering commotion. It wasn't till he reached the Malfoy's property line did the murmured shouts and flashes assaulted his subconscious and just like that he was running. His legs pumped as he flew past the marble staircase and out the manor's large oak doors. His sprinting increased to dizzying proportions as he forced himself towards the garden that signaled the end of the anti-apparation curse. Finally as he cleared the line he disappeared with a soft pop and landed in the dark wood adjacent to the Malfoy's property.

Chaos. Complete and udder chaos met his. His entire crew sat battling with at least a dozen order members. Screaming, shouting, fires burning, the Malfoy's prized vineyards aflame, and the indistinguishable flashes of missed or repelled curse. He immediately saw the Potter boy and fury rose up inside of him. His knuckled clenched tightly against his wand causing his already pale skin to turn even more white. That smug fan seeking prat was the reason his carefully cultivated plan had failed and once and for all, Klaus was going to make him pay. Hi eyes narrowed as he stalked forward nimbly skating around various spells. He imagined he looked somewhat like a Linx, tiptoeing effortlessly around attacking predators.

Potter disarmed Rudolphous and bound him, and it was while he was rising to stand that Klaus fired his first curse. Without a second thought his opponent deflected it and Klaus surged forward clashing against him. Klaus was surrounded by the metallically smell of blood and sweat, he pushed himself harder than he ever had before. Yet try as he might he could not gain the upper hand. The thick ridges of his muscles in his arms burned as he took another small step forward pushing his opponent down a small incline. A green flash narrowly missed the two of them by inches and distracted Klaus enough that the boy wonder managed to get a sucker punch in. A painful groan escaped him as he resisted the urge to fold and clutch his throbbing abdomen. Instead he harnessed the pain that coursed through him and pushed Potter away. He stumbled back a few startled steps, with a satisfactory smirk he pulled back his hand and hit Potter square in the nose. He was rewarded by a sickening crack and face down boy clutching his damage.

"I'd stay down where you belong Potter. Get used to bowing to you superiors." Klaus panted as he shifted so that he stood above his opponents writhing body. Klaus started gloating over his own personal triumph, wondering how he ever thought defeating him was hard in the first place. In a whir the boy's legs were moving, knocking out Klaus's legs and causing him to slam hard on his backside.

Soon and Klaus wasn't quite sure how they were tumbling down, rolling roughly as they pushed, pulled and hit each other. When a rock lodged itself between his shoulder blades on their less than friendly decent he was sure he was going to fold, but the cold fury that coursed through him would not allow him to. Not giving Potter the chance to react as they hit even ground he dug his knee into the earth halting them and tearing the skin from his knee. He steeled himself on Potter's chest and hit him as hard as he possibly could. His mind so focused on his current satisfaction he could barely make out the piercing scream coming from his left.

Blood drew from his knuckles as he hit the boy's face again, reveling in the liquid pouring from Potter's nose. Again he struck, and Potter fought to dislodge him, fists clenched in the worn fabric of his Henley. Another agonizing scream pierced the air followed by a large contingent of cruel laughter. Klaus momentarily paused, pride welling within him as he saw a group of his men gather around their victim.

He turned back toward his own, a ruthless smile contorted on his usually passive face. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of something that nearly stopped his heart. Soft golden curls, kissed by the sun even in the dead of the night made his head snap back toward the cackling group and for an eternity he peered at the body lying on the ground between them. When it slowly began to crawl forward his heart plummeted and he saw her.

Caroline.

The word whispered through him and he suddenly he was moving. Without another thought he scrambled off Potter who clung to his arm. Jerking out of his grasp he broke once more into a run. A flash of light blinded him but didn't stop. When the light seceded his men were unconscious lying scattered around the crawling girl. He assumed that it was he who had cast the spell but he did not know what it was. He didn't know anything other than Caroline was here, and she wasn't moving anymore. He quickly gathered her in his arms and rolled her over. Her eyes were closed, her breathing labored as a small trickle of blood dripped from the corner of her rosy lips. Panic engulf him, his chest tightening.

"Caroline." He demanded shaking her lightly. "Caroline, wake up." Time inched by as if they were centuries, he continued to shake her, softly whispering assurance to her. There was nothing, nothing but the eerie labor of her breathing. Merlin, let her wake up. Please. He wouldn't let her die.

As the panic increased so did the harshness of his moves to resuscitate her. Finally he slapped her as hard as he dared allow and a sputtering cough issued forth from her angelic lips. Her eyes fluttered open briefly and the crushing paralysis that was holding him was overtaken by sweet relief. His battered hand caressed her dirt stained cheek, a small relieved smile tilting his lips as she stared at him. She stared at him, recognition dashing over her gaze her lips parted to speak, but before she could she lapsed once more into unconsciousness.

The swift loud popping of apparition tore his focus from her as one by one the remaining members of the order disappeared. His midnight eyes clashed with Emerald green as Potter stared at him, a stained rag clutched to his face.

Klaus bundled Caroline closer, eyes never leaving Potter's as he focused his magic and hurtled them both through inky black darkness.


	23. Legend of Tarzan Part I

**Legend of Tarzan Part I**

 **A/N: Hulllllllllo errrybody. Once this hit 5000 words I decided I was going to have to split it in half, but I wanted to give you guys something to read while I resolved myself to my next task. Hopefully you like it.**

* * *

The air was thicker than usual that night. The effect of the African heat so near the water making the moisture in the air cling to the skin like damp cloth. It was common this time of year, and although Caroline had been in England for nearly a decade, her body still adjusted to the temperature without a hindrance.

She'd spent many nights in this heat. Many nights she could remember back with fond memories and smile.

This was not one of them.

She looked across the table into the face of evil. The man who had abducted her friends, had kidnapped her, had made some desperate deal with the Mbonga tribe to kill her husband. Silas. She should be scared, and she might have been, if she were married to anyone else.

"You know a normal man can do the impossible to save the woman he loves."

Silas eyes sparkled as if he were mocking her. As if he didn't realize that Niklaus was going to rip every limb from his body the minute he caught up to them.

In all fairness she'd tried to warn him.

"My husband is no ordinary man."

* * *

The first time she'd seen him had been purely coincidence.

Or her own foolish stubbornness.

She wasn't entirely sure yet.

She'd been playing with the children in the Jungle. It wasn't necessarily AGAINST the rules per se. In the Congo they didn't forbid anything specifically. But it was made very clear when little six year old Caroline holding onto her father's hand came to live with the tribe that there were some things that weren't done.

Little girls did not go into the jungle lest they get eaten…. Or lost….. or lost then eaten.

Their presence was frowned upon by the chiefs of the tribe for a great deal of time after their arrival. Understandably so, the white man was considered a danger, years of their presence was always marked with death, slavery, and heartbreak. With such a terrible history one could easily understand that it would be difficult to differentiate William Forbes from the others. Even when he had come to the Congo searching to learn from them, rather than to teach them. Tensions had alleviated between the natives and the white interlopers, and Caroline had always believed that their presence in the tribe had helped to bring about the tentative peace between them. It was simple, as long as they were left alone then they would bring no harm to any man in the white's encampment. It was slowly growing into the makings of a town, with real buildings being erected as steam ships filled with eager young swains ready to make a name for themselves. Why they chose the Congo she'd never know.

No she preferred it out here. Surrounded by her friends, away from the steam of the ships, the smoke from the fireplace, the mud of the roads. It reminded her of Virginia, or what she could remember of it. She remembered filthy streets and carriages, and waste on the streets. Here was lush, green. The houses were kept neat because possessions were scarce. Caroline wanted for nothing, and though she owned very little, she had everything.

She had wonderful friends, a job in the village teaching the children, the love of her father, the exotic beauty of the jungle all around her. It's everything a child could want.

Little girls did not go into the jungle.

Caroline was no longer a little girl.

"ONE, TWO….. THREE…. FOUR….."

She could hear them. The giggles of the children fading into the caverns of the jungle. Of the small feet shuffling through the underbrush as they ran to hide from her. She leaned against the banyan tree, her eyes resting on her forearm, a ridiculous smile breaking across her face.

"….FIVE…..SIX…"

That's when she knew.

She could feel him. For the first time since she had moved to Africa the jungle suddenly got quiet. Too still for as much life as it encompasses. The wind ceased to blow, the crickets stopped their chirp, as if everything in that moment went entirely still. Her arm shifted up, her eyes blinking open and darting to either side to check her surroundings.

There were rumors.

It was a village legend, one she had assumed to be folklore. Every community had one, so Caroline had assumed that this spirit was the Bogeyman of the natives. An evil spirit who haunted the jungle and took those who he deemed unworthy. It had been told by the Storytellers for as long as she could remember, since the first time that Caroline had been invited around the great fire at night to hear the old stories be told.

"…He comes… and when he comes… you will be cursed…. Because that is Tarzan's will..."

Magda's voice echoed through her mind as she stood there, the hair on the nape of her neck standing on end as the silence stillness stretched on.

"…sooner or later, Tarzan comes for us all…"

Her fingers squeezed tightly around the handkerchief in her hand. Her thoughts strayed to the children, they would wonder why she had stopped counting before reaching the agreed upon number. She took a deep breath to steady herself. "…SEVEN…EIGHT…"

The handkerchief was ripped from her hands.

So fast that she hardly realized that it was missing. She spun, eyes bouncing around the clearing looking for the culprit. Whatever—she stopped herself with an inward huff. WHOEVER it was who was taunting her had left with no trace of his presence.

"Hello?"

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the bounce of a leaf down a trail that led directly into the heart of the jungle. She moved down it without a second thought.

"Hello?"

She called again.

The jungle suddenly came to life again, more moving leaves, more sound. She could not be certain that she was going in the right direction, but for some reason she believed that she was.

"You can come out."

Her eyes were everywhere, looking for something, some clue as to where whatever had taken her handkerchief had gone.

"You know I'm American and my father is a Professor. So I don't believe in evil spirits."

She spun, looking up into the canopy of the trees. It was like there were eyes all around her, watching her every move as deeper she journeyed. Without a doubt she knew that she had gone farther into the jungle then she had ever dared to go on her own.

With a small hop to her step she turned a corner, peering around to the thick vegetation before she stopped short.

Her gaze met a pair of eyes.

They were blue.

Beautifully blue.

"Oh." She said, her eyelashes fluttering as she tried to catalogue what was before her. This was not spirit, this was a man, a man with blue eyes.

"Hello, you know you didn't have to steal my handkerchief, I would have given it to you if you had asked."

The man looked at her with no comprehension, instead his gaze was roving across her face as if desperately searching for something. Without knowing what else to do she gave him a kind smile.

"Can you….. speak to me?"

He seemed to take her smile as some clue.

He stood and…

"OH!" Her gaze flew up.

The man, whoever he was, was completely nude, and… well…Caroline knew enough about human anatomy to know that what she had seen was…. Well…

He stood massive before her, he seemed as tall as she was, with his shoulders easily the width of one of the trees behind him. If he were to wrap his arms around her, she was certain he'd crush her in an instant and with nearly no effort.

The man moved up to her touching her face and hair. There was no intimacy in his actions, it was almost as if he was trying to ascertain exactly what she was. She stood her ground as she tried to distract herself from his inspection. As he had clearly no knowledge of correct manners in respect to a lady, she could not have been the first human he's seen? The natives have been singing his story for years. "It's silly they think you're a spirit, when actually you've just…" He moved his face into the apex of her neck and breathed deeply, her stomach curled into a tight knot. Her body reacting without her permission. "Oh my…." Still she stood still as his hand patted their way down her body. Her nipples hardened against the stiff material of her corset. Her breath coming slightly labored as she continued to stare anywhere but him. His hands felt massive against her frail body. They moved clumsily towards the heat between her legs. Then closer still.

"NO! No… Not there wild man, I know you don't understand but that is a place we do not touch…" her slapping hands startled him and he was crashing backwards into the brush running from her.

"WAIT!" She called after him, running forward a few steps before coming to a stop.

It was an accident she'd been able to find him the first time. It would be a miracle if she'd been able to find him twice.

Her heart was hammering rapid fire inside her chest as she looked around her into the cavernous jungle. By chance she caught sight of her handkerchief lying in the center of the trail, neatly folded into fours. She bent low picking it up before holding it low against her abdomen.

"Come back!"

All this trouble for a handkerchief.

She'd have to make sure to return it to him.

* * *

She collected the children quickly. They unlike her, had stayed within the agreed upon hiding places in the jungle. She had challenged them to a race, with no intention of participating mostly so that they would quickly reach their homes. Lessons were let out early that day, and other then being ecstatic over their luck the children did not question why.

Caroline instead was practically running into the village to the weavers hut to see her closest friend, Nimawue.

Nimawue smiled as Caroline arrived before her flustered an out of breath.

"Hello my friend." Nimawue greeted good-naturedly.

"There is a man in the jungle... He's…." Caroline gasped for breath trying to calm herself enough to tell the story.

Nimawue put down her weaving to stand. "What?"

"Tarzan…. It isn't a spirit it's a man! He's in the Jungle I saw him!"

Some of the older women shared undecipherable looks.

"He is out there!"

Nimuwae chanced a look behind her before leaning forward to check her friend's brow for temperature. She moved forward, grasping Caroline by the arm and leading her forward.

"I think the heat might have gotten to you, let's get you some water."

* * *

The second time she'd seen him she hadn't really.

Nimawue was convinced that she'd gone insane, that she'd succumbed to the heat of the African sun simmering off the jungle floor. It was common when one was dehydrated that they may suffer from hallucinations. And for Caroline, who, though she lived with the tribe for 12 years was still considered foreign, and the first person to be susceptible to the heat. It was the only explanation as to why she THOUGHT she'd seen a man in the jungle, a man that she THOUGHT was the spirit Tarzan.

She hadn't.

She'd known what she'd seen.

She knew he was out there.

When she was not at meals, with her father or at her lessons, she found herself clinging to the jungle. Walking through, waiting to feel that total stillness that signaled his presence. For weeks she had felt nothing. Not even a glimmer that she was telling the truth and that the naked man that had taken her handkerchief was real. As she sat on a blanket in the middle of a clearing reading quietly from her book of Tennyson she assumed that today would be no different. She had probably scared him after all, slapping him when he had no knowledge what he'd done wrong. Why on earth would he come back?

A deep sigh escaped her as she let the book in her hands fall limply into her lap. It would not do to be melancholy all the time, people were beginning to question her constitution, and also her habit of taking to the jungle for long periods during the day. Perhaps it was time to put the Tarzan business behind. She knew she hadn't imagined it, but if he wanted to return he would have by now. Caroline shuffled her weight around until she moved onto her knees packing her book and her canteen into the basket, she was just shuffling to her feet, bringing the blanket she had been sitting on with her when it happened.

The canopy went still.

Still as death.

The hair on her arms stood as she looked up and around her.

An excited breath seeped from lungs as she spun around the blanket all but forgotten dragging on the ground.

"Hello?" She called out to the jungle around her. "I know you're there."

Caroline was met with nothing, nothing but the feeling of his eyes on her, but from what direction she could never tell. It was consuming, the feeling, it snaked its way up her spine, through every neuron of her being until every single one of her hairs stood on end, every bit of her rippled with gooseflesh, her nipples puckered tightly between the light cotton of her dress.

She fumbled into one of her pockets before pulling out the handkerchief that he had thieved from her the first time. "You dropped something, I've been trying to return it to you." She raised her arm in the air, one corner of the fabric clasped between her thumb and pointer knuckle. Time eased by with no response, no appearance from the man, but he did not leave either. It was an agony waiting, her breath was too loud in the stillness, the air stagnant, too hot.

Her eyes continued to search the jungle around her, to catch a glimpse of those midnight blue eyes amongst the sea of green. A large fallen tree lay on the edge of the clearing and an idea presented itself. She stuffed the blanket inside the basket, not even fussing with the debris that may still be clinging upon it. Basket in hand she walked over to the tree, setting the handkerchief down upon it.

"I'll put this here for you." She did not look back as she started across the clearing towards the trail to the village. Nothing around her changed, the canopy remained still, eerily silent, but something made her falter none the less. She stopped looking over her shoulder towards where she had just set the folded linen. It was gone.

A brilliant smile broke across her face and she adjusted the basket onto her arm.

He'd be back. She just hoped she wouldn't have to wait so long this time.

She didn't have time to second guess her last thought.

The roar of the Gorilla was so loud her bones rattled and it was close. Too close for comfort. She stood immobile. Afraid to move, afraid to believe what she had heard was real and not some cruel figment of her imagination.

How foolish of her, how stupid of her to come back this far. To her right she saw the brush move and the massive figure emerge. Her breathing was coming in sharp pants as her eyes widened in fear. As if it could smell her the massive animal moved forward, catching sight of her..

Caroline dropped the basket.

The ape broke into a run.

She mouth opened to scream but no sound came out. Instead after her disbelief broke her legs moved. Even then as she rounded the corner of the trail she knew that she'd never outrun the animal. But she had to try.

God she had to try.

She made another turn and pain raced up her ankle as it caught on an exposed root. It all happened so fast after that. So fast that she couldn't give details of what transpired even if she tried.

All she saw was his eyes. Blue, midnight, concerned, afraid, reassuring, staring into hers, and the whirl of black fur and the cracking of bones. But none of that made sense, because the man from the jungle was above her, protecting her, and never once did his eyes leave hers.

Not until the jungle once again fell silent, his arms sagged and his eyes drifted closed.

He had saved her.

And he was dying.

* * *

He couldn't remember anything at first. Nothing but the creatures face.

And sometimes, if he really thought about it, the feel of the creatures hands on his skin.

He could not understand the sounds it would make at him, they were foreign and strange. He knew enough about those who walked on two legs that they used those sounds to communicate to each other, but he knew not what they meant. But his creature was not like the others who walked on two legs, with their skin the color of midnight. He had always thought he was alone, the last of his kind with his light fur and his hair the color of sand, but his creature, his creature was the same as he.

He was in pain.

The pain he was used too.

Fights with his family, fights with the lions had seasoned him to pain. He would heal, he always had.

His wounds this time were different.

The pain would lessen, then he would wake up when it was so blinding he could not see.

It never ended, it seemed like a world of only night. Of only rain.

His creature's face was always there looking down on him when his eyes cracked open.

He wished he could stay awake.

He wished he could understand.

And then he fell asleep.

* * *

When he was finally able to wake for good he knew it. His eyes were clear. The other moments seemed lost in a dream, fuzzy, like looking through the fog.

The creature was there, and he enjoyed watching her sitting so strangely.

Eyes the color of the bluest sky met his own, and somewhere in his chest ached.

The creature was up in a moment, making those noises at him.

"Oh you're awake."

"I've been waiting for you to wake up for ages."

He simply stared, unsure of what to do, of how to respond in a way she'd understand.

The creature was baring her teeth, but not in the way his brother's would when they were challenging him, it was non-threatening, and he felt like he liked to see its teeth but he did not know why.

Its mouth closed.

"Oh of course."

It settled herself next to him on the bed, and straightened its spine placing its hand on her collarbones. "Me. Caroline."

The word whispered through his mind.

It repeated it while patting herself as if to indicate something.

"Caroline."

It said it a few more times, before he opened his mouth experimentally. He lifted his hand, surprised by the pain that shot through him and pointed a shaking finger at the creature.

"Caroline."

The creature's teeth bared again in that strange way and the sun seemed to beam from it.

He quite liked that.

* * *

Over the next few weeks he was able to learn many things. The creature, Caroline was called a human, a female human and he learned from her that humans can be many colors just like the animals in the jungle could be many colors. This was their first lesson.

He motioned between them, careful to not touch her. He learned from his first encounter that she did not like to be touched.

"More?" He asked.

She bared her teeth at him, just a little this time, and her eyes sparkled like sunrise on a lagoon.

"There are many more."

She taught him the sounds to communicate with the others who walk on two legs. He would point, and she would repeat the word. He would try the sound with his own voice, each sounded strange, but they held meaning in objects. If he ever did not know what a word meant, she would make him say "What is this?"

Many tasks he learned from watching her from his place in the bed he could not get up from.

He like to watch her.

And she liked to teach him sounds that meant things.

One day, she was sitting next to him in the strange log called a chair, and glanced up from the square object called a book.

She Hemmed. "You'll need a haircut. We'll never be able to get all those tangles out."

He repeated the word.

"Haircut?"

She reached up to her own curls, pulling on one.

"Yes this is hair."

Her hair reminded him of the rays of the sun.

With a great deal of effort she pulled him up and helped him into the chair. He was much bigger than she, and he liked how small she seemed next to him, how small her hands were in his own. She had made him coverings for his legs, and he felt strange trying to move in them. She collected water and other things that he did not know.

But as she brought them over she explained every ones name and function.

"This is a brush. You see, you comb your hair with it?" She took the end of her hair and pulled the bristles through the end of hers, the hair flowed like the current of the river, it was hypnotizing. "And these are scissors, we cut things with them." She picked up a piece of twine before rendering it in two with the metal spears in her hand.

She made quick work of wetting his hair, then running the brush, her hands, and the scissors through it.

He liked it when her hands touched him.

They were soft. In the jungle with his family, things were done very different from the people who walk on two legs. Everything is done by touch, by smell, by looking into the other's eyes. The truest form of communication.

Those who walked on two legs relied on their sounds, on the meanings they've given to objects. They did not connect, so they did not truly ever understand.

Caroline touched him, when his wounds needed tending or now as she cut his hair. Caroline understood.

He just wished he could touch her as well

The brush pulled hard and he yelped.

"I'm sorry. Are you alright?"

"Hurt."

He said, a word he learned from the long battle with his injuries.

"That hurt."

She corrected.

"Yes, Caroline."

* * *

He was sick of being indoors. He'd never stayed so long in a cave. He was certain he's break everything inside of this one if he was forced too much longer.

Caroline was away teaching others the things she had taught him, he wanted to go outside and find her. He did not like it when she was gone.

It did not take him long to get to his feet.

And other then a hindrance of a limp he was able to make it to the door and open it though the knob felt tiny in his hands. The moment the grass hit his feet his body rejoiced. He swore the ache in his leg lessened, the breeze calmed him, the feeling of the grass under his bare feet made him feel at home. He wanted to return down on both fours, to feel the earth on his palms, to run through the wild. But his body protested his attempt to bend down. It was strange to walk on two legs for so long, but he persevered.

He found Caroline surrounded by children, he had remembered the same children being with her in the jungle the first day. Her eyes met his and she was moving towards him in an instant.

"What are you doing out of bed? You'll hurt yourself."

The younglings followed behind Caroline, looking on at him in awe.

"I was tired of the cave."

To her credit, though her irritation showed she did not lose her temper. Instead her mouth screwed up tightly in a way he did not like.

One of the smaller ones spoke, wide eyed as they stared up at him.

"Are you really Tarzan?"

Tarzan, he did not know that word.

He looked to Caroline for explanation.

"It's what they called you, it means the spirit in the trees."

He tried the word out.

It sounded strange, it sounded familiar.

"Will you show us how you walk on all fours?"

"I can't." He said simply, looking back to Caroline for reassurance that he was communicating correctly. He pointed towards his side, still bound with linen. "Pain."

"Alright children, that's enough for today, we need to get Tarzan back to the house so he can get better. Once he heals, then maybe we can have him visit us."

They all gave disappointed awww's in unison.

She moved into the space underneath his good arm wrapping her arm lightly around his waist to take hold of his hip and guide him back towards the cave. With Caroline pressed so closely to his side, he almost wasn't sad he had to return to the cave. Thy wobbled onto the canopy and she stalled him, going inside to grab the chair and bringing it with her.

She motioned for him to sit and he followed her instruction without question. He stared up at her.

She bared her teeth in that way that made his chest swell. "You need to be careful, if you stress yourself too soon you won't heal properly."

"Caroline?"

"Yes."

"What is this?" He moved his hand up, to indicate her mouth. The corners of hers turned down as she regarded him.

"That's a mouth."

"No. This." He waited for a moment, trying to find a way to express what he meant. After a few moments he bared his teeth in the way that hopefully mirrored her own.

"Oh." She said letting out a laugh. "That's called a smile. People smile when they are happy, when they are trying to be friendly. You can say a lot with a smile. Even if you are saying nothing at all."

"Smile." He let one of his own tilt on his lips as he looked at her.

That was one word he would not forget.

He did not think he would forget anything about his Caroline.

* * *

The rain pounded down. In the thick dark recesses of the jungle, night became day.

He knew this in a way no man ever would.

As he crouched in the tree, staring into the recesses of the jungle, his chest heaving as he became one with what was around him.

10 meters away there was a snake twisting its way up a vine. A cheetah was moving to the west thirty meters behind him. He could hear the sound of his brother and his troop collecting after the assault they'd been handed by Silas. They were not allies. But they were no longer enemies. Akut's acceptance had assured that no other gorilla would harm him on his journey, but he knew that the wild was never where his endangerments were.

Silas was his adversary.

Silas had Caroline.

Panic crawled its way within him.

He took another breath. Moving forward with unnatural grace along the trees.

Caroline was his everything.

Caroline was his conscience, his light, his hope, his dreams, his strength, his honor. The infamous Niklaus Mikealson, the legendary Tarzan would never have been recovered from the wild. He'd forever be the nameless spirit haunting this jungle, prowling the trees alone until he perished. He was nothing until she found him.

If they harmed her, he would not rest until each of them lay dead at his feet.

He could not live without her. The emptiness he felt at her absence, her danger, was nearly mammoth in its weight. To live in a world without her by his side….

He shook his head at the thought.

He could not imagine it. He would not.

Caroline was strong. Stronger than any woman he had ever known. Even stronger than he.

She would survive, until he could get to her. Until he could once again hold her in his arms, taste the sweet decadence of her lips, lose his self in her honeyed flesh.

His Caroline.

His Love.

His Wife.

From where he stood he could just make out the sound of the river, and with it the sound of the paddle boat making its way towards its destination.

Where his Caroline waited.

His nostrils flared as he bared his teeth.

They wanted a savage.

A savage they would get.


	24. Drabble Prompt: The Wrong Man

**Klaroline prompt: (Based on Little Mix's Secret Love Song pt. II) Caroline and Klaus had a secret affair, she was engaged but Klaus hoped she would leave her fiance. But he finds out she is about to get married in a few weeks he decides to end the relationship. Caroline is truly in love with Klaus, but feels pressured to marry her fiance, losing Klaus really broke her, more than she thought it would. Now she has to decide...(You chose if they end up together or angst)**

 **mscaroline-forbes**

 **A/N: so I changed this prompt a little bit, and the reasoning why is because I honestly am super super super against Infidelity I hope you still enjoy it though. Thank you so much for the prompt and the support!**

So maybe today was her wedding day.

By all rights this should be the happiest day of her life.

That was how it went in the fairytales after all. She should be surrounded by her family friends, beaming out over the church pews with her love by her side. Not staring out the window at the melancholy Virginia drizzle with an acute sense of loss drowning her. Well…. There were a few reasons she ended up where she was right now, and every single one of them had to do with Klaus Mikaelson, Coworker, Asshole, part dream-part nightmare come true.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Caroline Forbes, Miss Mystic Falls and top of her class at Princeton was not supposed to be in this situation. If only she could go back to that night. Maybe she'd be getting married today, maybe she'd be happy.

That wasn't true, deep down she knew that wasn't anywhere close to the truth. And even if she could, she wouldn't take any of it back.

Tyler and her had fought, probably the biggest fight they'd ever been in. He'd been drinking, she'd apparently been to friendly with the waiter and with a shattered glass against the wall he'd stormed out of her apartment with a vow that he'd never return. He didn't, not for a few days. That few days had given Caroline the opportunity to get used to the idea of being single. She was after all, Tyler had made that very clear as he'd made his exit those few nights ago. Even though she still loved Tyler, the pain of his words "I can do better anyway" Still stung.

She was contemplating that very thing when he slid in the stool next to her.

Klaus Mikaelson.

Up until that point Caroline had known next to nothing about him other than he had a metric ton of relatives and he took great joy in making her life a living hell. Then he offered to buy her a drink, and with that face and that accent—she couldn't find a reason to say no.

To at least one drink. Which turned into two, which turned into the most unexpected life of her night.

Klaus Mikaelson wasn't just some cocky British bastard from her office. He was funny, and playful, and gorgeous, and cultured. He listened to her, about work, about her impossible mother, about Tyler. And Despite the fact that she said that she wasn't going to, she had a really good time.

So she kissed him. While he was walking her to her car at the end of the night, his coat bundled tightly around her to keep her warm. Caroline Forbes pressed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed Klaus Mikaelson. Which lasted only a second before he had turned the tables and it was him kissing her, not the other way around. And boy did he know how to kiss. His palms were pressed against her driver side mirror, his body flush against her own as her hands tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck. His tongue massaged her's in a way that made her toes curl up in her black heels.

So she did something she never did. She pulled away from him, just enough to catch his gaze, their breath mingling as the words whispered from her so softly she was afraid he wouldn't hear her. "Come home with me." He did.

That was proven by the chaste kiss he placed on her lips as he guided her to the passenger seat and navigated her car back to her own apartment. Even with the commute, she never felt any nerves, any sense of doubt. Not even when she unlocked her apartment door and let the two of them inside.

Especially not when he closed the distance between the two of them and with agonizing gentleness took her face in his hands.

Not when he spent the rest of the night worshiping her body with such torturous intensity that she came more times in one night than she could ever remember having in her life.

Then she woke up.

Alone.

Naked.

Relieved. She hadn't expected him to stay, hadn't expected him to pretend that it was something more. She was grateful that he had left so that she didn't have to have the awkward conversation with him that what they had done was "only a one time thing" and that NO ONE at the office would ever know.

Two days later Tyler had come back begging for her to take him back, and well… she did still love him, and though he'd be irate if he heard she'd been with someone else while they'd been apart, there was that old motto: What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

A week later the Anchor account papers were signed.

10 days later she was promoted to the companies' premier new account, with none other than Klaus Mikaleson. She was sure, sure without a doubt that he'd say something. That he'd launch into one of the irritating accolades about how her work was shotty and he'd have to make sure to go over it in triplicate to make sure there were no mistakes. But just like the morning after their night together, that Klaus was gone.

Instead he was just like that man she'd met at the bar. Funny, playful without being inappropriate, supportive, a partner. She was pleased that she was able to work with him, he really was brilliant, and he was kind. There was never any inclination that Caroline and Klaus's relationship was ever anything other than purely professional. Except—there were times, times where he'd look at there, really look at her. As if he was seeing the sun for the very first time. It was never very long, he'd catch himself and return his mask of calculated friendliness. But those moments, when it was just Klaus and Caroline and the memory of that night between them. Those were her favorite moments.

Tyler proposed on a Wednesday.

Not as much of a proposal as a "hey we should get married."

Which turned into a ring suddenly weighing down her finger and a shockingly short amount of time in order to plan a suitable ceremony.

Caroline could remember the day he noticed that ring like it was 20 minutes ago. She was clomping her way through the office from the copy room loaded down with about 15 lbs of paper more than she could really handle when he swung out of the financial directors office. Her tone was breathless, and though it was because she was a little more out of shape then what she would like to admit, she damped it down as she shuffled the weight of the copies onto one arm and with the other shifted a ton toward Klaus.

He stared at the ring protruding off of her finger like it had grown legs and a head and was tap dancing in front of him.

The minute he grabbed the pile she had her hand at her side, rotated out, shielding the massive diamond from his view.

"We have the DBT in twenty do you want to head down?"

It took him a long time to recover and she cursed the situation. The awkwardness between them, the ring on her finger

"No. I'll be down in a minute."

He didn't explain any further than that, and she wasn't stupid enough to press him with questions she wasn't certain she wanted to know the answers to.

She'd remember that day, because that was the day that Klaus, her Klaus disappeared. The one that made her laugh, the one who brought her lunch at three o'clock with a displeased look on his face because she had forgot to eat again. The one who worked as tirelessly as she did by her side on the floor of her office till eight at night on a Friday to make sure the presentation was perfect. And it wasn't that he was fickle enough to go back to being the pretentious jerk who used to make her want to punch him in the face, he just….. Disappeared.

There was no more lunches.

No more teasing jokes by the coffee pot.

No more looks that made her feel entirely more than a woman engaged to another man should.

There was nothing. Klaus was a machine around her. He did his work, participated in the meetings and then he left.

And it took her 24 hours of him acting like any other employee in the building for her to miss him. It was two weeks after that, when she had sunk into such a low point that she couldn't bring in upon herself to try to smile that she realized the happiness that she'd been feeling for the past six months hadn't been about Tyler at all. Tyler was making her miserable, and now that the one light that she had was gone she couldn't pretend that she was happy.

What was she going to do? Call off a wedding that was days away? Break up with Tyler for what? Because she had a one night stand with her coworker seven months ago and she was pretty sure she was in love with him? A man she hadn't really spoken to in lord knew how long and she had no idea if he even felt the same way about her.

It had taken more thought than it had taken to graduate from Princeton.

And she hadn't spared a moment of it.

Tyler would never forgive her for this. For waiting until the day of their wedding before pressing his ring back into his hand.

He'd hate her forever.

And maybe that's what she deserved.

She stared out of the window of the church, watching as realization dawned on each newcomers face as they realized there wouldn't be a wedding after and turned to return to their car.

The rain hit the window before her with fat splats in time with the lazy beat of her heart. The shift and groan of floorboards beneath heavy feet sounded from behind her but she didn't turn as they stopped on the threshold of the bridal sweet. She probably made quite the picture. Dressed in leggings, staring out the window in the rain while her wedding dress hung forgotten in the corner.

Caroline had made it perfectly clear after speaking with Tyler, her family, and her friends that she didn't want to see anyone for a while. But she supposed a little peace in light of the circumstances was too much to ask for.

She waited. Waited for whoever it was to simply leave her be.

But they didn't.

The words were soft, beautiful, and she'd recognize that voice anywhere in the world.

A brilliant smile broke across her face.

"Hello Sweetheart."


	25. Newlyweds first fight AU

**A/N: Hi there friend! I hope you've gotten a chance to vote for me in the electric mirror cameo vote design contest! Here is the drabble you requested. Hope you like it! If you haven't gotten a chance to vote, please do! It would mean the world to me.**

 **ALSO IF YOU HAVE A DRABBLE PROMPT FOR ME AND WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE DESIGN CONTEST I'M A SEMI FINALIST IN HMU ON MY TUMBLR THENURSEHOLLIDAY.**

* * *

"I swear to god Klaus. I. swear. To. God." He knew, he knew the minute the doors to the study flew open that he was in a mammoth amount of trouble. There was only one person in the entirety of New Orleans who would have the audacity to slam open the door to his private rooms with that much ferocity, every single other person in the tri state area would be dead by now. He'd had New Orleans under his control for near a century now, and it had been blissful once the covenant was signed and the supernatural under belly understood their place.

That was until Caroline showed up, strolling into New Orleans with flames licking on her heels and that undeniable arch to her hips.

She was exactly like he had remembered her, not that he would have forgotten a single facet of her character. No, his memories of Caroline were buried deep within himself, in a place that no one could touch, not even the most powerful of witches.

So when their eyes met across that crowded club, the music pulsing, the body heat simmering as people gyrated against each other on the dance floor he knew it wasn't a dream.

As hard as he had tried over the years he could never reproduce her perfectly, neither in paint, nor pen. And suddenly she was there, and he was standing before her, looking down at those fluttering lashes and twisting hands like he'd never witnessed anything so enrapturing in all his 1000 years.

By some miracle, she had accepted his offer to stay at his estate. Then after a few weeks of showing her the city and everything he had to offer, she accepted his offer for a date.

He'd remember the kiss she gave him at the end of the night for as long as his miserable life lasted.

Caroline was his salvation. Caroline was his weakness, and he was not the only creature within parish to have noticed. Ever so slowly after her arrival, and after the stories of Klaus and the blonde woman no one knew about started to spread, and like wildfire the attacks started.

Not on Caroline directly. Not at first.

It wasn't until word got out that they had gotten married.

But over the six months he finally managed to catch the illusive Ms. Forbes, the attempts had gotten more and more frequent, and though he was content to steep in his newly wedded bliss, he had to make sure that Caroline was safe. No matter what the cost. Today however, there was a very foolish werewolf who had stumbled onto their property with a very sharp stake clasped in his hand a lack of vervain in his system who didn't even have to be compelled to tell him why he was there.

"The girl. I'm here for the girl."

Those words caused the pent up rage of centuries to be released, and all that was left of that hapless werewolf when Klaus was done was the stains of blood smeared across the concrete.

He'd showered and shut himself in the study with every grimoire he had in his collection. Intent on one thing, finding a way to protect the woman who was currently glaring at him, her hands on hips, her eyes reduced to mere slits.

"God? What god? You'd think with as long as I've been alive I'd have met the chap by now."

She swelled with anger, and even with the frustration he was feeling he couldn't help the tiny flicker in the back of his mind. The one repeating the same word in his mind since the moment she had said yes. Wife, wife, wife, his wife.

"Seriously, can you stop being an asshole for five seconds? I mean it, if I stumble across one more dead body that you've left on this property I will not be responsible for my actions."

Stupid, foolish, woman. Over a century old and not a lick of sense. Didn't she see, didn't she understand. "And what are you going to do?"

"I will literally murder you." She deadpanned, throwing her hands out to the side.

He chuckled, that way he knew from the dozens of arguments they'd had over the years that she despised. "Funny. I was under the impression I could not be killed."

"Try me." She spat, and with a warming of his stomach, he let his eyes caress her face. His lovely, foolish, wife. "Klaus I'm serious." Her toned turned pleading, and he chuckled again.

"As am I. That's my plan. I'm sitting here waiting for to hear what you think you're going to do. Come now love. I'm being awfully patient." He reached a hand out between them, taking one of her golden curls between her fingers and tugging on it lightly. It was a small movement, but the bristles of hair between his fingers was enough of a reassurance that she was here. She was here and she was safe.

"This is unbelievable I can't believe after everything that we've been through together, the fact that I want you to get off your ass and clean up your own messes is what turns you back to the murderous psychopath I first met." His hackles rose as her barbed jibe hit. With a stiff set of his shoulders he released her curl, taking a step back and turning towards the crackling fireplace and the table of open grimoires.

"Not another word Caroline."

"Oh I can do this all day. What else… maybe we should talk about the guards following me around all morning? Let's talk about that?"

The guards were for her protection, if she'd just trust him … "I am perfectly aware of your stamina Caroline, but I don't think this is either the time or the place." He ground out, reaching for the bourbon decanter on the beverage cart and sloshing a mixture of bourbon and blood into one of the heavy tumblers.

"SERIOUSLY?" He allowed himself to wince, only because his back was too her. That may have gone a tinge too far. "How in the world did I think this was going to work? You don't even listen to yourself let alone listen to me."

He watched as the wind lightly tickled the branches of the trees out the study window. It was calm, peaceful. And he couldn't find it in himself to feign another answer. After his continued silence she huffed, stomping loudly as she moved towards the door.

"KEEP. THE. DEAD. BODIES. OFF THE LAWN. We have neighbors."

He knew better then to respond. Knew that he should leave well enough alone and that, later, much later if the way her cheeks had flushed in irritation she'd have his balls. But there was that part of him, the centuries steeped in bad habits "Neighbors that are conveniently compelled to look the other direction."

He could hear her answering scream of frustration as the door was launched shut.

A heavy sigh escaped him as he extended his hearing and listened to her retreat towards the back of the house. He could easily hear her uttered curses and mumbles under her breath, each one with the creative ways she was going to maim him. He listened after her for a long time, long enough that she'd ordered several of the guards to clean up the mess, and opened and closed doors in the kitchen.

It wasn't until she stomped up the stairs to their bedroom and through a very distinctive lock did he focus back on what was in front of him.

She'd locked him out.

Bullocks.

* * *

He'd face her later.

He'd said that about three hundred times by now.

So when he finally managed to trudge his way up the stairs and lightly knock one of his knuckles onto the bedroom door he was hoping that he'd be lucky enough that she'd let him in.

"Not on your life."

He sighed, well, there went that.

"Sweetheart please open the door."

"No. You were a complete jerk today Klaus and I don't want to see you. Go sleep somewhere else." He rarely slept, and with her lithe body next to him every night she rarely did either. The words bubbled up inside of him, and he stomped them down.

"I have beignets…" He drawled out the end of the words, letting the heavy paper bag in his hand shake so that he knew she could hear it.

There was a long pause as if she were debating his offer. A massive grin broke across his face. Gods, he loved that barmy woman.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"There have been uprisings Caroline you know that as well as I."

"That's not it and you know it. As evil mastermind as you think you are you are awful at trying to hide the fact that you are keeping something from me. You would think since you're like a billion years old you'd be better at that by now." He could hear her move from their bed towards the door and he placed one palm on the wood between them. As if he could feel her through the barrier.

"Caroline please open the door."

"Tell me what's wrong." He could picture her across the door with perfect clarity, those cartoon pajama bottoms, her hair mussed and thrown on top of her head. Her arms crossed over her chest, her lower lip pouting out in that way that made him want to tug it between his teeth.

"It's you. They are coming after you." The words hung heavy, leaving the taste of ashe and fire in his mouth. He hated them the moment he said them, because it became real.

"And you think that wasn't something I should know? I'm not seventeen anymore. I can take care of myself."

Of course she could. She was the strongest person he knew, stronger then himself.

"I know. I was just…"

"Being an idiot." He repeated lamely.

"A protective, alpha male idiot who should know better."

He sighed. "Caroline will you please let me in?"

He was sure the guards were having quite the laugh at his expense.

The door cracked open and he could see Carolne's face through the small space. The area around his heart squeezed tightly as he looked at her, but he waited for her even when all he really wanted to do was to wrap her in his arms.

A beat passed, then two. "Are there really beignets?"

He laughed and held up the bag.

She swung open the door the rest of the way.


	26. Wrong Man Part 2

**The Wrong Man AU Part 2**

 **Hello Everyone! Thank you to katieb373 for the vote for my design contest! This is a continuation of the Wrong man post for you. I hope you like it and thank you so much for the sport.**

Everything stopped as she looked at him. Wearing a black and white tux he looked entirely more handsome that she thought she'd ever seen him before, even that first night when he'd been wearing a worn henley and jeans. It was the only time that she'd seen him out of the office, except for now. Klaus could probably wear anything and pull it off. "What are you doing here?" The words were breathless, and she didn't even have the audacity to look embarrassed by the fact. He was here.

God she missed him.

"I was invited." He said, reaching into his pocket and revealing a blue and gold embossed invitation. She spent all of five minutes picking out the design, and in the end she chose what Tyler had wanted. It seemed wrong to see the names, Tyler Lockwood and Caroline Forbes in his hands.

"I didn't think you'd come." She said honestly.

He stared at her for a moment, his expression raw, his lips barely touching as if he was searching for something to say. Finally he said with a resounded affirmance. "Me neither."

"I'm glad you did." There wasn't much to say and too many things to admit all in the space of the same breath. She didn't know where to begin, she didn't even know that she should.

"I'm sure you are, Wife jilts groom. It's all they can talk about out there. At this rate it'll be on the front page."

The worlds released a fissure of tension between her shoulder blades and she let out a soft chuckle, letting her chin fall to her chest. "Yeah well…"

"I must say I knew that any wedding you'd have would be a spectacular event, I see I wasn't disappointed." He sauntered forward, in that lazy way that she hated that she loved

"Yeah."

"And are you?" He countered.

Her gaze returned to his own, her brow furrowed in question. "Am I what?"

"Disappointed." He said plainly, as if the question where obvious.

"No." One single word. One word the explained everything and nothing.

"I'm glad to hear that." She couldn't bear to look away, even when he stared at her for a long time, and as desperately as the inside of her screamed she couldn't bring herself to tell him. _Come one Caroline, he's right here, tell him you did it for him. Tell him!_

Finally, as if the words were compounding onto themselves boiling up inside of her until they reached her mouth she took an inhalation of breath, ready to speak. Klaus seemed to have the very same problem, because words rushed out of him before she had a chance to say anything. "I realize that this must be quite sudden… I've never been good when it came to accurate timing… And I know seeing as you've just called off an engagement the last thing in the world you'd want to think about is the prospect of entering into another relationship with the other hardly even being determined cool from the cut. Yet, last time, I had it in my head that I had more time. That I wasn't going to be over shot because I had it in my head that I wanted to be a gentleman. Even if we did it all backwards, after that night…. Caroline after that night I knew that I didn't want just a night with you. So when you got promoted to the Anchor case I begged Silas to let me work on it with you. So that I could spend time with you. Truly spend time with you. I wanted to know you, all of it not just the parts I discovered with you pressed against me."

Her heart began to beat wildly in her chest, her lungs constricting just enough to make her breathing slightly labored. She could feel the wetness pool itself in her eyes. He paused for a minute, looking at her with such heartbreaking affection that she wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him to her.

"But it didn't go as I planned." He continued, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as his eyes scanned her face, the contour of her cheek, the slope of her jaw. "I fell in love with you."

Her heart ached as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. She wanted to stop him. To say something, anything, but she couldn't, couldn't do anything but stare up at him in wonder.

"I think I fell in love with you the minute you flicked your eyes up at me, completely suspicious, when I offered you that first drink."

"I knew I was in love with you the minute you burrowed into me the next morning with your brow scrunched and the sun streaking through your hair. I wanted so badly not to leave, to wake you slowly with lazy kisses and make love to you in the morning sunlight. But I knew, I knew it wasn't the way. You'd just separated from Tyler and…"

A small breath escaped her and her chin returned to her chest. Her pulse thundering wildly beneath her skin. Her hands coming up to brace on her hips as an attempt to hold herself together.

"And then all…..this happened, and I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear the thought of you marrying someone else. Now you're not. So this time, this time I want you to know that the moment you are ready to take that step again, to open your heart to the prospect of love. I'll be waiting for you."

A soft smile bloomed on her lips as she chanced a look at him. "Subtle."

He looked so incredibly beautiful, so incredibly tortured. To think all this time, all the time she'd been thinking that she might be in love with him, he knew that he already was. She'd been such an idiot. "I found that subtleness didn't favor me the first time around." His voice was laced in a tinge of humor he often carried in his conversations. That teasing playfulness that she had missed so desperately over the months. Shed missed there verbal spars, there taunts. It was her turn now.

"And if I chose someone else. When I'm ready that is?"

His smile grew as he recognized her volley, turning cocky without his usual arrogance. "You won't."

"How do you figure?" She said, crossing her arms over her chest and elevating her jaw to him.

He didn't even hesitate. Saying the words she was terrified to say. "Because if I'm not mistaken. You're in love with me too."

"Klaus." It was a whisper. It was a prayer.

Taking her response as hesitation he quickly continued. "We don't have to rush anything Caroline, We don't. I just want you to know, so this time there isn't any question between us. I'm not going anywhere."

"And if I don't need to wait?"

"Then I'd probably tell you to come over here." His eyes were smoldering, the temperature in the room bracketing up a degree every second that she waited. With no reluctance whatsoever she closed the distance between them. With every step, whatever Klaus was holding back seemed to seep out of him. Until his shoulders were sagging in relief, and he was devouring hers.

"I'm right here." His head dropped the rest of the way down to her own. There foreheads touching as little by little they began to sink into each other. His breath mingled in her own, absorbing the feeling of the two of them touching so opening.

"I have thought of nothing but kissing you since that night. Sometimes I thought I dreamt it all." He whispered the words, as if he was afraid that if he said them too loudly they'd break some spell.

"I thought of you too." That may have been an understatement. She finally begged. "Kiss me. Please."

He did not leave her waiting. His lips dipped to her own and, finally oh god finally. She laced her hands into the hair at the nape of his neck as she pulled him closer, her lips opening for him. The moan he let out as he dipped his tongue inside her mouth for the first taste would probably stay with her till the day she died. It was half plea, half whimper, and with that the kissed turned from tentative loveliness to complete desperation. He was gripping her hard, his arms binding her to him. Even with his hold she found herself clawing at him, clawing her way up him like a wild animal.

It had been so long.

So long since they kissed.

So long that she'd spent meetings in his presence dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him again. When finally they broke apart they were both panting heavily. Hands still grasping each other tightly, lips still rasping lightly against each other as if tentative to stop their caress.

His nose skimmed her own lightly and a shiver arched through her body.

He chuckled lightly, moving forward to press a sweet kiss onto her lips before standing straight keeping her within the circle of her arms. His head tilted, catching sight of her massive wedding dress hanging from full length mirror.

"It's a good thing you aren't in that dress love. I was half terrified to walk in here and see you in it."

"Why?" She asked, a bubbling laugh escaping her in a dancing scramble.

"I'll tell you later."

And 1 year and 2 months later when he knelt before her on bended knee, ring box in hand, he did.


	27. Legend of Tarzan Part 2

**A/n: FINALLY. the second and final installment of the Legend of Tarzan Klaroline fic. I know this took forever to get up. But it turned into a monstrous amount of words and I lost inspiration for awhile. I want to thank everyone who's been supporting me in the design contest and putting in there votes! You're drabble prompts have inspired me to be writing and all that is the only reason this is done. Please if you have a chance vote for me in the electric mirror cameo vote design contest or head over to my tumblr thenurseholliday to request a drabble. Love you guys!**

* * *

He moved swiftly. His heartbeat echoed only by the pounding of his bare feet against the jungle floor. Dawn was approaching, and time was running out.

For the slaves.

For the Congo.

For Caroline.

His muscles strained as he continued to pump his legs, fighting his way towards where the Mgumba land began and the rivers met. At the mouth of the river, this is where the tribe will make the trade with Silas. This is where they will wait for Niklaus to come.

He would spare them all if he could. The Mgumba, especially the tribe's chief had his reasoning for wanting Niklaus dead. He could not fault him for his need for revenge. For the blood that stained his hands was Mgumbian blood. He would make them understand.

Except for Silas.

Silas he would kill.

And if any harm had fallen upon his wife…

He would make sure the man's death was brutally slow.

The brilliant Indigo and violet of the Lobelia flowers whirled past the corners of his vision. They reminded him of home. Not England. Not the life they had there. Only of Caroline. Caroline was his home.

* * *

He had healed slowly. And for him it was a brutal process. Torn from everything he knew, forced into immobility, he knew nothing of which to occupy himself. So he learned, the words of those who walked on two legs. Speaking at first, but reading soon after. It was difficult, and frustrating, and he found that every time he opened the pages of the book he'd been working through that he hated those that created such things. He hated learning to read, but he did so because it pleased Caroline. And what pleased Caroline, pleased him.

They were seated in a clearing a short ways away from the village. He spoke the words before him. The tale she had given him was simple, and once he learned a word he was able to remember it. His speaking voice still was foreign to him, but he did his best to work through his distaste of it. Caroline required him to read, and read he shall.

"…and with that, he looked upon her and knew love."

The sentence stopped. The chapter ended.

His reading for that day at least completed.

Caroline graced him with a smile. All at once the reading did not seem as much of a burden.

"You did very well." She said, reaching forward to place a reassuring hand upon his shoulder. He resisted the urge he always had when she placed the delicate gold of her skin against his own. To return her touch. It was difficult, it was always difficult. And the resistance caused a distaste in him that easily equaled his required studies.

She removed her hand and he felt the loss of her warmth immediately. She looked out, over the high grass before them to the jungle. His home. Her face was perfect in her profile, her hair rolling down her back in rivulets bound by the ribbon he longed to remove. Was that common? He was not sure, but at times he ached to see his Caroline as he was. Unbound, unclothed. Open to him, the way he knew things to be, the way things were familiar, the way he understood. "Caroline?"

With his inquiry she turned a small smile quirking her lips. "Yes?"

"What does love mean?"

She seemed surprised by his question. Her eyes flew down to her skirts, and though they lay perfectly flat over her legs she adjusted them carefully.

"Oh." It took her a moment before she responded. "Love can mean many things. Love is the bond between individuals. It is not entirely rare, but it is the most precious thing that can occur between two people. It can come from a mother when she cares for her son. Of a farmer tending his land. Of two people coming together in union as man and wife."

She rotated, her body coming up so that she rested her weight fully on her knees. Kneeling before his seated form. "Like when your mother would protect you when you were younger. How she would find you food, a warm place to sleep. That was love, a love of a parent for their child. When we all have celebration, those days when we all toil endlessly preparing food and stacking rocks and creating the great fire, that is love. The love we have for our tribe. For our friends and neighbors around us. Do you understand?"

He did. He understood the welling feeling he felt inside when he thought of his mother. Of the way she would sooth him when he cried, protected him from the other predators of the jungle until he grew enough to protect himself.

He understood this love. But then again, Caroline always had a way to make him understand.

"And what of the other?"

"Hmmm?"

"The other. The union between man and wife."

"Well…." She hesitated again, rolling back into a seated position and looking towards the village. "Well…" She started once more. "When a man becomes of a certain age he must chose a mate. Someone he can care for, provide for, and respect. If the woman he chooses returns his desires they become each other's caregivers. They provide for each other. They love each other, and if they are lucky enough they are blessed with children. It is a sacred bond, the union of man and wife, and if they so choose to enter it they do so knowing that they chose only each other, for the rest of their lives."

Children. His mind flew to the animals in the jungle, of the natural act of coupling between species. Of the way his brothers had all mated with the other sex of their kind. Of the younglings they would bear from it. Of the release he had achieved at his own hands, at the never ending urge he felt to bare Caroline's skin to his eyes, to taste her flesh and inhale her sent. He felt his member swell. But he knew well enough that such things were frowned upon. The way nudity was rejected by those who walked on two legs. It would be an offense to let such things be discovered. He moved his leg to block the growing evidence of his arousal. He continued to ponder. Man and wife, a union. Of love.

"How does one know, if another returns his desire to become mated?" His eyes bored into her own. It was an answer he desperately wanted to know the answer too.

"You feel it." She said softly reaching one hand up to cover her heart. "Here."

"What do you feel?"

This love, this love was something like his old life in the jungle. It was something felt within, ancient, unknowing. It was not something that could be professed with pretty words written on the pages of the book he read. It was not something that could be spoken and believed. It was infinitely greater, and as he looked at Caroline. The beauty, the softness, the slope of her cheek and sway of her neck. The tiny circle of her waist and the height of her person, all the things that had drawn him to her so long ago he knew without a doubt he understood what this love meant. Caroline did not have to answer him to describe what it was to love, because he already was consumed by it.

If ever there was desire to touch her. It was now. As she looked into his eyes as if she was trying to tell him something. Her lashes fluttered and looked back to the hands twisting idly in her lap. The organ she indicated was burning in his chest, and he knew, he knew he wanted to be mated to her more than anything in the world. More than breathing, more than air, more than water. But a union could not occur unless she wanted to be mated as well. He looked to her. To try once more to garner what she meant with the message in her eyes.

"Come along, we must be getting back to help with dinner."

* * *

They were walking along the village. Caroline had finished her lessons with the children for the day, and they were ambling towards home not necessarily with the purpose of getting there, but not with the purpose of actually arriving. He found that she did that sometimes, and he couldn't say that he minded her aversion to always being indoors. Who would understand it as well as him?

"Caroline." A voice came from behind them and they both turned to see one of the women from the village. Caroline gave her a smile, a smile he learned meant that she was pleased. Caroline had many smiles, he quickly learned each one. Memorized it so that he could catalog what she was feeling, what she was thinking. "It's your turn to help gather the firewood for the gathering tonight."

"Of course."

She moved towards the woman.

"I will help you." He said without hesitation. Moving to step in line with Caroline.

She stopped him, stopped him with a hand upon his bare chest. He froze, afraid to move, afraid that she would pull away, afraid that she wouldn't.

"No, this is my task. I'll see you later back at the house."

The words were final, and she moved away without him. The woman from the tribe and her walking together down the path towards the line of the jungle. He disliked it so when she left, when he was not permitted to be with her. Then again, she was going to the jungle, and he especially disliked it when she went there without him. It had only happened a few times since he had begun to live inside her home. But memories of seeing one of his brother's charging at her. Watching her run, watching her fall did not give him any assurances that she would be safe. He knew only one thing about that decision all those months ago, he needed her to be safe.

Technically he wouldn't be helping her if he was watching.

So he snuck into the jungle. To climb amongst the canopy and keep an eye on her as one by one she gathered wood for the fire.

After an hour she tossed the wood down in a huff, her hands coming to her hips, her gaze moving directly up.

"Get down here." She said.

He didn't move, simply cocked his head. Was she…

"I know you are up there come down here right now."

She was speaking to him, how had she known... He dropped down before her, and he wanted to shrink back at the displeasure on her face.

"I told you I didn't need your help."

"I am not helping."

"No you are skulking about in the trees." He let a small smile twist upon his lips. "Now go."

His eyes moved to the edge of the jungle, then back to her beautiful face, the sun reflected off of the gold of her hair, and even if she were cross at him in that moment, she was glorious.

"It's not a safe time for you to be here."

"What do you mean?"

"All of the jungle knows you are here."

"I'm not even in the jungle. That's impossible."

Her brow furrowed and he leaned down, his eyes meeting the height of the rustling grass. With his massive fingers he beckoned for her. She moved, kneeling down next to him, letting her gaze follow his across the rolling hills.

"The wind, you see how it blows." She nodded.

"It is blowing your scent right into the jungle."

Her shoulders squared as she looked to him. "Is it really?"

He nodded.

"It's how I found you the first time."

"You know I can take care of myself." It was a statement, one that made his mouth twist up in a smile as she straightened back up to her full height.

"I know."

* * *

When he disappeared the first time Caroline could not console her panic. She wanted to rush into the village and ask desperately if it had all been a dream. If the last five months had been nothing but some fever induced state that had made up the massive man that had lived in her home. But remnants of him were everywhere. The covers of his bed disturbed, his trousers she had spent painstaking time sewing folded neatly next to it. The two chairs crowded around the dining table. He had not been a dream at all.

He was real. She knew it.

And he was gone.

It had been hot that night, uncommonly hot for that time of year. Caroline had been in Africa long enough to be accustomed to such fickle things as a little warmth but somehow, somehow it had prevented her from falling into her usual beloved slumber. Maybe she already knew, somehow that something wasn't quite right, and finally with enough tossing and turning to not only be a nuisance to herself but the man sleeping on the makeshift bed in the living area she rose. She tightened the thin cotton of her wrap around her as she moved through the doorway of her room towards the basin that held clean water. She had attempted to be quiet, trying desperately not to disturb as she tiptoed towards the basin. It was there that she became frozen in her tracks. Staring at the empty bed like it had suddenly been set aflame. An overwhelming sadness crept within her as she took into account his things. Of the emptiness of the dark hut. It shouldn't have unsettled her so. He had been completely healed for weeks, and though he stayed day after day, continuing his lessons, continuing to walk by her side through the village and down to the river as he learned their ways she knew it would eventually be short-lived.

She thought she had prepared herself. Steeling herself for the ultimate day he would leave their village behind. For where she did not know. But she hadn't expected it to be in the middle of the night. Under the cover of darkness.

She hadn't expected him not to say goodbye.

Great loss settled itself within her as she wandered back to her own bedroom and returned underneath her blankets, water forgotten.

It took her a long time to fall into a fitful slumber and when she awoke she wasn't sure that she had slept at all.

She rose at her normal time, the same time she had awoken every day for as long as she could remember and numbly dressed herself. It was the same thing that she did every day, so with a considerably heavier heart she moved to the kitchen to prepare herself something to eat. Today she would be preparing one plate of breakfast. The first since he had come into her life, since he had opened her eyes and stumbled through her name.

She turned into the kitchen and froze.

His muscled back rippled as he transferred first one piece of fruit, then another to Caroline's favorite dish. Her eyes wide, blinking she looked at him as he turned and finally took notice of her. He gave her a devastating smile. A smile that never failed to snake its way through her veins to coil itself tight within her abdomen.

"Good morning." He said as he offered her the plate.

She took it blindly. Following him the steps to the table to break their fast.

He had been gone. He had left to return to the jungle. She had known it. Last night had not been simply a dream, a figment of her imagination.

But he had come back.

It would not end up being the first or last time he left.

But he never failed to return. They began a new pattern. One that was the same in every way, every detail, except that he no longer slept within her home. They still ate together, walked together, he still insisted upon lifting anything that looked moderately heavy for her. It was a strange agreement, a strange truce they never spoke of.

It wasn't until one day he was late that she ever wondered where he went every night. Wondered if there was a place he slept. If it was safe.

She stood on the porch staring at the jungle longer than she ever had before as the sun rose and the morning trickled by. Sweat began to well upon her skin as it snaked a path down between her shoulder blades. Still she did not move. She stilled her mind from thinking of alternatives. She knew Tarzan, knew him like no other. He was kind, and helpful, and considerate, and playful, and wise in a way no man would ever be. That he had taught her just as much about the world, the jungle, the life in this land as she had taught him. Something must have happened. Something must have prevented him from coming home.

Home.

The word whispered its way through her.

She would not consider another option. Would not consider that today was the day that he decided to leave. A soft sob escaped her as she saw his form emerge from the dense line of trees. The sandy length of his hair around his shoulders, his bare chest massive as he stalked forward, more viral, more predatory then any mere man. The moment he left the trees his eyes were upon her, perhaps even before. She felt them even from the distance. And she did not look away as he moved towards her, covering the distance between them with a purpose she had never seen before. When he finally reached her he came upon the steps to her hut and drew short. His eyes burning into her own as he looked up the short elevation to where she stood, hand clutched at her throat.

He was here.

He was safe.

She didn't notice the leather bound book in his hand.

Not until the words, filled with such depth in them spoke to her. "I have something to show you."

* * *

Niklaus Mikaelson, the long lost Earl of Greystoke. His parents dead. His life stolen from him. He was a lord. An honest to god British lord. The kind she had read about in books, in stories. The months had not prepared her for the revelation. Or the answering storm that came the moment she had composed the letter to the house of Greystoke and the entirety of the world realized his story. He became infamous overnight. A celebrity. A legend.

But more than that, Niklaus finally had answers to what had plagued him for so long. Of how he had come to the jungle, of who he truly was. He deserved the answers, deserved to know what he could from the journal entries of his mother and father. He deserved to know that he was loved, and protected, and that he had not been abandoned by choice. The knowledge changed him, completed him in a way that brought completeness to Caroline. No man deserved their fate more.

Men began to arrive within a month of the letter being composed. At first it was seekers, men wondering if the tales were true. If there was some royal savage that had been discovered in the depths of the Congo. Taught to read and write. It wasn't until his grandfather's men, men with funds for him to get home. To England, where he really belonged. An Earl. Did it all fade away…

She coveted that time with him before it all happened. He no longer left her at night, and she explained everything to him, everything she knew about his world, and everything he could expect. The story of his parents, the English gentry, exactly who he was. He watched her with the quiet way he always did, feeling everything that she said so much greater than anyone ever really would. He would read the words penned by his father sitting next to her in the high grass, overcome by emotion as he stumbled over the words written within. Of his father's wishes, for him to return to England. To become the Earl.

Caroline felt a pang inside of her. Niklaus would leave to find his home, his destiny.

There was only one problem. Caroline's home was right here.

He would leave. Finally. They were already reaching the cusp of the things she could teach him.

She coveted that time when they were together, before they came for him.

He refused to go with them at first. It may have been his time in the jungle, but it was the first time she realized that he had an aversion to others. His teeth bared as he blocked the two men, sweating profusely under the African sun, embroidered handkerchiefs dabbing at their red faces. The two men seemed shocked by the man shielding her from view. Massive, lethal, in a way that they had only dreamed in their imagination. It took the men finally producing the letter from his grandfather, showing them the seal of Greystoke for his hackles to lower slightly. She wished she could go back, to take herself by the neck and throttle herself senseless. She placed her hand upon Niklaus's shoulder, watching as his body visibly calmed. As the men, followed suit.

"Go with them. It is your duty and your right." The searching probe of his eyes into hers as he assessed if she truly meant what she said. She had, he deserved his fortune and he deserved happiness. His lashes blinked down a little as he read the genuineness of her statement, resigned before he left. Because he did leave her. For good this time.

It was three days before Caroline realized how much she missed him. His quiet smiles. His questions. The way he looked at her. The way he learned to describe the way of his life just as she described hers.

She had half expected him to return that night. As he had before, to steal away from whatever hotel they were surely staying at simply to return for a safe place to sleep. But night after night she awoke alone. He had not come back, and it pained her to realize that he most likely would not.

It was two weeks and the arrival of the gilded invitation when she realized exactly why she missed him so desperately. Had since the moment she thought that he had snuck off in the night. The script of his name, Lord Niklaus Mikaelson stuck out in lilting cursive against the white paper invitation. She traced it with her finger, every dip, every sweep. She did it once, twice, three times, ignoring every other word on the page but his name. Somehow, somehow impossibly she'd fallen in love with him.

He was the first anchor she had since her father died. Her companion, her friend. Her spirit. Her Tarzan. Her earl. Hers.

And now they were holding a ball for him.

At least she was invited.

At least he hadn't totally forgotten her already. She hoped.

Her heart ached.

His name whispered from her lips onto the wind of the Congo. "Niklaus."

* * *

She couldn't remember the last time she opened the trunk in the very back of her room. The last time she felt silk against skin. There was no need for such finery in her village, but she had kept it. Kept it because it was the last gift her father had given her before he passed away. Kept it because she could remember the smile on his face as he passed her the parcel, and even though she had told him she had no need for a new dress he had insisted.

She dressed up because it was expected of her…. and….

She did not want to embarrass Niklaus. He was…. Well. There were expectations of who he occupied his time with now, and some village girl who lived amongst the nearest tribe and who dressed in dresses made for function would not do.

She couldn't recount how many times she nearly turned around as she walked the two miles to the white man's village, her dress clutched in her arms so that it wouldn't drag in the mud. It wasn't for nerves of the others who would be there. When had she ever given a damn about the occupants of the village, especially the men? She had more than enough dealings with them when she came to town to trade, to purchase. The women would whisper and the men…She knew she was attractive, and that the men, as deluded and ridiculous as they were thought they could seduce her into bedding them.

There was no love lost for their hatred of her. She was nervous to see Niklaus. To see if they'd changed him already. Changed the man she so desperately loved.

No. This was what he deserved. He deserved this party, he deserved their respect. It was his father's wish for him to retake the Earldom, and he was doing just that. It was not for Caroline to stop him, even if her heart begged her to do such a thing.

When she finally arrived at the hotel she took a deep breath before stealing her chin high and walking up the steps. It had been a long time since she'd been to a party such as this, with the swirling opulence of the room, the silk lined walls, the tinkling music of the piano, the raucous laughter of the guests. It was suffocating, and nauseating, and her heart and her head ached from all of it.

Niklaus must be overwhelmed.

She couldn't see him in the crowd. Though he stood massive compared to the other men in attendance they somehow managed to block him out. Had they dampened him down so much already? She wound her way slowly through the crowd, accepting a proffered drink as she made a move to find him. A tall dark haired man leered at her from the bar. She rolled her eyes before downing her glass of champagne in one swig. She wasn't going to make it through the night sober. Why in the world was she attempting to make it through the night at all?

 _Because you love him_. The words whispered through her.

She placed the empty flute on the bar waiting for the thick mustached man behind it to refill it.

The hair rose on the back of her neck.

"Caroline."

It was his voice. Her name said in barely a murmur. Goose flesh ran rampant over her skin and she resisted the urge to shiver as she turned to look at him for the first time in weeks.

She instantly lost her breath.

He was gorgeous. His suit was hand-made and most likely cost a fortune, fitting him purposefully, he both looked like he'd worn it every single day of his life and like he never wanted to put it on again all in the same breath. His hair was clean and brushed, his eyes the same devastating blue, his lips the same lush fullness. And his eyes, still held the same softness they held before when he looked at her. An enormous smile broke across her face.

She caught herself from whispering his name even though she desperately wanted to.

"My lord." She said, inclining her head and sinking down into a shallow bow. When her eyes once again met his they looked amused, and she… dear lord she wanted him to look at her like that forever.

"Don't call me that." His gaze fluttered down for a moment then back up. Speaking as he always had without words. _Not you,_ even though he didn't speak the words she understood them none the less. They said more than just those two words. They said the others could address his title, they others could bow and curtsy and fawn over the legendary Tarzan, but he wanted her to treat him like she always had. It meant more to her than the invitation, it meant everything.

"Nik." It came out in a whisper, but he heard it. He always heard.

His eyes dancing along her face, as if he was as desperate for the sight of her as she had been for the sight of him.

"You look beautiful." Warmth washed her cheeks. She let her gaze fall down the lines of her dress. "I'm told that compliments to a lady are always acceptable." There was something about his voice that was different, and…. The message. How many others had heard such words from his lips tonight?

Oh. Oh of course.

She hastily wiped the pang in her chest. "Are you well?" He didn't answer right away and she continued. "I mean… are you, are they treating you well?"

"As well as to be expected I suppose."

"And you intend to go to England?" It was a question she already knew the answer to. A question she wanted to kick herself for asking him.

"Yes."

"And when will you depart?" Did he hear the words that she truly meant? As she heard him when he did not speak. _When will you leave me?_

"I am not sure."

A hand clasped upon his shoulder and one of the men who had appeared at her hut that day to take him away appeared at his side. "My Lord, I have some people I'd like you to meet." His eyes met hers. "Oh, you must be Caroline, I don't believe we've met." He pushed his hand between them as if to shake her own. "I'm Stefan Salvatore, solicitor for the seat of Greystoke."

The man had a kind face. And if he wasn't taking the man that she had grown to care so deeply about away from her she might even one day call him friend.

She gave another shallow curtsy. "Caroline Forbes."

Mr. Salvatore gave a gentle smile. "If you'll excuse us Caroline." They turned and walked away from her, she turned to track down the man at the bar, she definitely needed another drink. With him in her sights she was able to watch them. Watch them walk around the party, talking to this person or that. His eyes moved back to her own only three times since they parted, and it had been well over and hour of her being there. Some of the party guests had stopped to engage her, to ask her about her life or to enquire about her health. A man with an English accent and an Italian name leered at her as he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips.

It was a pleasure for her to dismiss him.

This was ridiculous. There was no reason for her to stay here…. Her eyes took in the wide breadth of Niklaus's shoulders twice the size of any other man in attendence, his back aimed towards her.

There…

She'd simply say her goodbyes.

And though she was certain that she could say it from right where she stood in whisper and he'd be able to hear it. She owed it to him to do it formally. She owed it to both of them. She moved forward through the crowd until she drew up directly next to them. With that insane intuition Niklaus moved to allow her into the group, already sensing someone approaching him from behind even with the noise to deter his hearing. He smiled as he took into account her face.

She wished they were alone, she wanted to give him a proper goodbye. One that she couldn't possibly say with the others around them. She couldn't say what she wished before the others, it wouldn't be proper. This could be the last time she saw him, he'd go to England, and he'd…. forget about the jungle and the Congo. He'd forget about her. But then again, even if they were alone she'd probably never get the courage to say what she really felt.

"My Lord." The words felt like ash on her tongue. "It's been a lovely evening, thank you so much for inviting me."

His brow crinkled. "You're leaving?"

"Yes. I – I'm feeling excessively tired. I wish to retire."

Despite the fact that there were several others in the group his focus stayed solely on Caroline, even when she moved to pull away.

"I'll have someone escort you home."

She gave him a playful smile, a small roll of her eyes. An expression for solely him, even with the audience. It was look that said everything, that despite the things that Mr. Salvatore had obviously taught him in his absence from her, there were some things that weren't going to change.

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary." Her eyes said it all. _I don't need one. I never have._

His eyes answered. _I know._

A purring voice sounded from next to her. "Now who is this?" She stiffened immediately. The evidence of drink laced in the man's speech was unmistakable. Somehow, Niklaus's body mirrored hers, his body becoming rigid as a dark haired man with ice blue eyes filtered into her line of sight. "I remember you from before. Hello again."

Caroline blinked, taking a small step back. Stefan moved forward, one hand on the man's chest causing him to stop his move towards her.

"Damon, you remember Caroline Forbes. Caroline, this is my brother Damon Salvatore."

The word dripped from her mouth laced in disdain. "Charmed."

"Not yet. But you certainly will be." The man reached forward trailing his finger over the line of her chest dipping over the curve of her breast. Horror arched through her, her jaw hung open in surprise and disgust. Her hand immediately slapped his away.

"Try that again and you'll pull back a stump." She seethed.

The bastard had the audacity to laugh.

"She'd got spark this one. How delightful. Tell me friend," his eyes moved up to Niklaus's, and Caroline knew, whatever he was about to say would end terribly. "Does she suck as well as she bites."

Damon was airborne in less than a second. The next he was sprawled on the floor, body limp, the crowd staring in stunned silence.

Klaus's teeth were bared, his body seething as one by one the occupants gasped in horror at the figure of Damon completely unconscious. Of the new Earl, looking entirely as dangerous and primitive as he'd been rumored to be. Stefan was already moving forward, spilling apologies while trying to ascertain whether his brother would be waked easily. Murmurs started in the crowd as one by one each person took a step back. Till it was only Caroline and Niklaus standing in the center of people.

Stefan covered smoothly. "It's alright everyone, Damon just had a bit too much to drink. The Earl hasn't had the opportunity to be a Gentleman for long, he is unaware of how we resolve conflict."

The words did not placate the man beside her. His body was still rigid, emanating fury from him in visible waves. Finally, he ground out. "It was my understanding you had to be a man before one was deemed a Gentleman. My mistake." And with that he spun on his heel and stalked to the door. The crowd parted in fright as Niklaus's broad shoulders disappeared into the darkness.

"Nik." Caroline breathed and all at once she was running through the sea of parted people after him.

He was already running, she could see his figure heading down the road to their tribe. She ran after him, but it was only moments before she lost sight of his figure in the darkness. There was no way that she'd catch up with him now, not until he stopped, but she'd catch up with him eventually. Half way to her hut she found his broad coat laying in the road. Next his cravat, his vest, his shirt.

She slowed to a walk with the ever increasing pile of things wrapped in her hands. Her hut was sealed tight, she knew he had not returned there, so she placed his things on the porch and moved directly to the jungle. She'd find him. She'd find him and make him go back. When she hit the trees she started to yell. Because there was one thing she knew, he would find her.

"Niklaus Mikaelson you get down here this instant."

There was nothing so she pressed further. The darkness seemed thicker in the jungle, the inky blackness pressing down upon her suffocating.

This was dangerous.

Foolish.

She knew better than to go into the jungle in the middle of the night.

But nothing would hurt her. Not with him around.

"Nik. I mean it you come here right now. I won't leave until you do."

Still nothing. No unnatural stillness. None of the usual indications that he was watching her.

A fissure of doubt crept inside of her as she circled around in the inky darkness.

"Niklaus. You stubborn ass. Get down here!"

A hand cupped over her mouth and she took a calming breath, as she relaxed into his arms. He stalled there, longer than he ever had before. His chest heaving against her back, his presence drowning. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, steep herself in him.

"You'll get yourself killed yelling like that in here." He said, his voice ghosting over her ear. Gooseflesh puckered on her arms as she turned to look at him in the dim light. He was bare chested, his forehead creased in frustration. At her or his actions she did not know.

"I had no choice."

"You could have stayed home." He said quietly.

"You could have gone upstairs to your, I'm sure lavish hotel room instead of tossing your things in the mud and running into the jungle."

His hesitated, in the air between them before he dropped it. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Don't you trust me?" He said. Usually, he wouldn't have to say those words. She wondered why he did.

"Of course." He brought his hands around her, and without her understanding how they were flying through the air. She was clinging to his back as they swung. She pressed her eyes tightly shut as she felt him release the vine that he currently had a hold of and free fell towards another. It took and eternity and a millisecond before they stopped, and he was gently lowering her to the ground. Opening her eyes was a trial. But she did not find herself teetering atop a mountainous tree. She found herself….

"It's a treehouse."

"Yes."

"How did you find this place?"

"I lived here."

The meaning was clear. This, this was the place he had called home before he saved her that day in the jungle. Her gaze caught sight of a cradle in the corner and another realization slammed into her, this wasn't just his home… this is where his parents…. This is where the Earl had died.

"Nik. You have to go back."

"Why? Those people are different from our tribe. I dislike them. They speak with artifice. They speak with lies." Her heart fluttered around his words. Our tribe.

"It was your father's wish that you live among them. That you restore your families honor."

"And of what honor would I have becoming like them."

"You can be an Earl, and be a good man. Not every man will behave the way…" She stopped as she took into account his once more seething form, she moved, to comfort him, console him but he moved quickly away from her reaching hands. "Why did you hit him?"

"He touched you." His teeth glowed white in the dark, his sneer menacing, but she was not afraid. Finally she moved before him.

"He was drunk. And an ass but…"

"He touched you." NIklaus fumed it this time. She looked up at him, into his face. Into the man she knew that she loved. Perhaps… He lifted a hand as if he meant to trace the line of her cheek, the same path that his eyes currently were taking before dropping it.

"Niklaus? Why would that matter?" He blinked, his eyes coming back to her own.

"You do not like to be touched." Her heart beat wildly inside of her chest.

"True. By those I don't grant permission. That man, I would never allow to touch me. But the touch of a friend, of a …" The word whispered in her mind, her nipples puckered as it stayed unspoken, _lover_. She had to continue, had to know. "Do you want to touch me?"

The word came out as a plea, a prayer. "Yes."

Time stood still in the moments after she spoke those words. Slowly. So slowly it was agony his gnarled fingers moved to her face. As the calluses touched her skin heat ignited, she let out a shaky breath as he moved closer, stroking first one hand, then the other along her jaw, over her neck, to the curve of her shoulder.

Her core throbbed as he continued, and she didn't know if it was her or him who stepped closer. His heavy eyes drooping as his forehead bent to her own. They sat there for minutes or hours, his hands on her skin, his mouth so close to her own, theirs breaths intermingling in the heat. She moved in even more, her lips lingering a breath away from his own, his hands were immobile. He was frozen, cautious, waiting for her.

"Touch me." She whispered and she swore that the most powerfully dangerous man in the words shuddered.

"I don't want to hurt you." He said, his voice thick. The husky murmur sent electricity spiking through her.

"Then I won't let you." She moved, pressing herself up onto her tippy toes until she softly pressed her lips upon his own. They latched, the skin clinging to each other as they slowly pulled away. As if their own lips revolted against the idea of them parting. He exhaled and waited as she moved her lips along his own. Tasting him, learning him, teaching him.

He learned quickly. Slowly, the kisses turned drugging, her mouth moving along his. Leaving everything inside of her aflame. His hands brushed lightly over her exposed skin of her shoulders setting her nerve endings aflame. She pressed herself tighter against him as the kiss grew more heated, more desperate. She was clawing him now, her hands in his hair dug in his shoulders, skimming the line of her hardened chest.

When it became necessary to breath they broke apart. Niklaus's eyes were licking with flames, and Caroline didn't dare look away until he dragged his nose down her cheek to the column of her throat. With shaking hands she guided his own around her back, reveling in the way that he flexed as he adjusted to the weight of her in his arms. His journey brought him to a stop behind her right ear where he took a deep inhalation of breath.

It was Caroline's turn to shudder.

"Nik." She whispered as his mouth started to trail open mouth kisses along the column of her throat. She moaned so agonizingly that she hardly recognized the sound of her voice as she pulled her hands away and began fumbling with buttons of her shirt.

His hands, so strong, so massive against her body.

How long had she wanted this. How long had she dreamt of him?

Her bodice gaped open at the front and she let the parted seams hang between them. She placed her hand on his chest directly over the rapid beating of his heart. He pulled away and she wanted to cry out from the loss of his touch, but his forehead once again met her own and his eyes dipped between the strip of naked flesh gaping from her open dress.

"I choose you." He rasped, his voice barely more than the crunch of rocks under shoes. "As my mate."

"Nik." Her eyes closed, her heart swelled. "You can't know that. You've seen so little of the world. You can't know that some other woman won't catch your fancy."

"There will never be anyone else. I've met other women, at the party, during my time in the white man's camp. I disliked all of them. They are not you, they do not know me, and they do not care to know me for what I really am. Not like you. I want no one but you."

A small laugh escaped her, the final admittance of the joy bubbling up within her. He waited for her, with nothing but the dark jungle and her next words hanging between them.

"I choose you too." A heavy sigh of relief escaped him as a small smile twitched on his lips. She didn't stop, mostly because they'd come this far and if she didn't say it she'd never forgive herself. "I love you."

He picked her up as if she weighed nothing, and with torturous tenderness walked her to a makeshift bed. She moved down on her own volition, her open dress front gaping more from the movement. Even in this, he was still the ultimate predator, his body vibrating with intensity as his gaze devoured every inch of her newly exposed flesh, as he slowly crawled over her. His mouth met hers again and with the lightest whisper of a touch he separated her dress to his gaze.

With another drag of his tongue against her own he moved, pressing his face between the two mounds of her breasts. Taking a deep breath, learning the new parts of her with teeth and tongue and scent. Caroline was possessed. Mewling crys, tiny gasps, followed by long drawn out moans as Niklaus hands molded against the velvet of her flesh. His tongue abrading against the underside of her breast. His teeth raking across the sensitive skin of her ribs. Her nipples where hardened into hard peaks and he seemed entranced by that fact. Spending an infinite amount of time, rolling the nubs between his fingers, pulling the flesh between his lips and sucking on them.

He seemed to be in tune with her every motion, her every cry of pleasure and quake of her body. Her hips were arching beneath him, searching desperately for some kind of friction to ease the ache within her.

He slowly traveled lower, until the sweep of his tongue into her navel had her crying out. Her hands fisted into the burlap behind her head.

He looked up at her, and she didn't think she'd ever seen a more beautiful sight then the one of his bare skin pressed against hers. He read her, read the desperation on her face, the blush of desire staining her cheeks and chests. Her heavy breathing.

He didn't wait for her permission this time as his finger unclasped the button of her skirt. She nearly wept when he pulled the fabric down and off of her and she was bared to him. His mouth opened as his gaze skimmed her fully nubile body. His satisfaction at seeing her as such written plainly on his face. His hands moved along the outside of her thighs before he buried his nose into the thatch of curls between her legs.

She gasped as his hot breath hit her where she wanted him most. Her folds slick and wet from her desire. She wanted him so badly, she fought against his hold on her hips. Her body wanting to roll and press her exposed sex into his mouth. Into anything.

His eyes met hers. He took a deep breath. He groaned, long, desperate.

She whimpered.

His eyes still locked on hers he set his mouth upon her.

Then she couldn't look anymore. She threw her head back in bliss. His tongue glided against her sensitive flesh and this time she could feel the vibration of his moan against her. He learned her, just as he had when he first parted her blouse. Ever lick, suck, every move of his mouth that cause her to rreact he cataloged away until she was certain she couldn't bear another second of it.

He moved away.

The pain of teetering on the edge of climax consumed her and she cried out from the loss of him. Her displeasure was quickly replaced with his body covering her own, his mouth fusing to hers with a desperateness that matched the storm raging within her. She could taste the tang of herself on his lips and the realization of such caused her hips to buck directly into the hardness of him. He moaned as he settled himself against her wetness, the silk fabric of his breeches being destroyed by her juices.

He would never care about such frivolities, not when he could have her. The hardness of him against her soft flesh was too much. She couldn't wait any longer. Her hands reached between, fumbling with the band of his trousers until she managed to unbutton them and push them down his legs.

The hot heat of him pressed against her.

He growled his pleasure. She mewled in response.

The massive head of him slide against her wetness until it notched itself at her entrance.

Perhaps it was the resistance to the intrusion, there was no way he would have known she was a virgin, but he pressed into her slow. Letting her adjust to the size of him. The feel of him filling her. She was gasping, the sensations of his thick ridge touching her inner most places was incredible. She didn't want him to stop, not even when he'd broken through the barrier of her innocence and was seated fully inside of her. She rocked her hips and, at her insistence he began to move.

His teeth bared, he pulled from her and slid back in to the hilt. Neither too hard nor to soft. The defined muscles on his back and shoulder strained as he held himself above her. Her hands were everywhere, in his hair, on his chest on the small of his back pulling him deeper, harder. There mouths were tangled together to the point she didn't know where his ended and her's began. It was all too much. His body, his mouth, the heat of him inside of her. His skin slapping against her own, the sweat slicking there skin.

Her climax hit her hard. In one minute she was desperately racing towards it, the next she was hurtling over the Cliffside into oblivion. Her body clenched around Klaus's thrusting member and he groaned as he rode her through it. Stars fractured, and as the fine lines of her consciousness began to return he followed her. He roared his completion, his cock pulsing inside of her as he emptied his seed.

She held him close.

Afraid to let him go.

When he finally came back to himself he move off of her, but continued to hold her close, his hands never leaving her skin as they traced paths along her body.

She began to drift, the lazy path of his hands soothing her into a deep sleep.

Just as she was almost lost to consciousness, she could here his whisper into her skin. "Mine."

With a sleepy smile and without opening her eyes she stroked down the ridges of his chest before returning the sentiment. "Mine."

* * *

She fought against the manacles on her wrists.

If she could get loose this time, she could run, perhaps even get to Niklaus before he had to face the Mgumba.

She looked out at them. There were maybe 100 men dressed in warrior regalia, painted white and armed to the teeth. They were there for Niklaus.

No.

They were there because Silas had manipulated them to get what he truly wanted. The massive chest of uncut diamonds.

She rattled the chains harder, moving as far away from them so that she could kick the sole of her shoe against the post holding her.

The men continued to speak down on land. The exchange being set, oblivious to the woman on board fighting to free herself.

She kicked again and the pole shifted with a clunk. Her eyes widened, as she fought forward fumbling with the chains. They came free with a clunk and within a second she was on her feet moving to the edge of the ship, looking for an escape.

It was too late.

Niklaus was standing at the entrance, the hundred Mgumba before him. His chest bare, his face ferocious. His eyes blazing as he stared directly at her, taking in every bit of her person as if to reassure himself she was okay. His name whispered from her, carried to him on the wind.

The crowd fell silent as one by one each of them noticed her husband's viral presence.

A massive roar, one she'd heard many times over her life sounded from behind him.

A disbelieving laugh escaped her as the massive figure of a gorilla crept forth from the heavy jungle. It was the troop.

Niklaus was here.

And he had brought hell with him.


	28. Drabble Prompt: Stutter

A/n: Hello everyone! This was a drabble requested by the awesome kcer4life Thanks so much for the votes and signal boost about my design entry! I hope you like it!

If it wasn't for Bekah. He wouldn't be going to this blasted abomination.

A high school reunion for the three years above and below her year. How absolutely tedious.

He wasn't going.

It was a ludicrous idea in the first place, and unlike Bekah, he didn't have fond memories of Mystic Falls High School. That place had been the closest thing to penitentury that he'd ever experienced, and he'd dash it if he was going to wander back in so that dilapidated hell hole could have another go at him.

No. He absolutely, 100% was not going.

That was until his sister arched on golden eyebrow at him and with that infuriating smirk on that bint's face she said. "Caroline's going to be there."

Bullocks.

Damn it all to hell.

* * *

So that was why he was currently dressed in a suit that he wore only when a meeting required it and a name tag with Hello my name is written in Red. A large glass of bourbon in his hand and frazzled to the end of his wits. He was going barmy. Bonkers. Straight round the bend.

This was ridiculous.

He shouldn't have come.

He had no idea if Caroline even wanted to see him. He had no idea if she'd even remembered who he was.

Because why would an angel, the new girl who ended up being head cheerleader, Miss Mystic Falls, dating the captain of the football team and had once stood up for him deign to remember the boy with the stutter.

He had a stutter alright?

And it was something that, with a lot of work, and a lot of determination he was able to overcome. During his time in Secondary, he had chosen simply to not speak. He knew the cruelty of those around him. That the moment he tried to open his mouth they'd be answered with the chorus of his laughing classmates. Taunting him. Mocking him. It was the anxiety of it all. He never stuttered at home with his family, but the moment that he would open his mouth to speak in front of other's the prospect of stuttering was all he would think about. And the panic from not wanting to stutter caused his stutter to become worse.

But he wasn't like that anymore.

He wasn't mum-mum-mumbling Mikaleson anymore.

He was a Set Designer for Universal. He was THE set designer for Universal. He shouldn't' let his past, these people, unsettle him. They weren't in high school anymore, and as much as he had once thought so. They were no better than he was.

Except Caroline truly was.

He remembered the first time he saw her. She sat down next to him in class, he'd been drawing something, not even paying attention to Mr. Saltzman lecture on about the Civil War. She gave him a kind smile, and he remembered thinking that he hadn't seen her around before. But that was all the thought he'd given her before he turned back to his art work.

That was until his name pulled him out of the swirling precipice he was sketching.

"Mr. Mikaelson? What do you think the answer is?"

It was a classic teacher ploy, to single out the person not paying attention. He froze, his breathing becoming labored, the heat rising within him as he stared at the expectant man before him.

"Whu-whu-whu-what?"

The class laughed. Klaus turned bright red to the tips of his ears. His face was burning, he looked down at his desk.

"Stop that all of you should be ashamed of yourselves."

He chanced a look up at her. At the outraged look on her face.

One of the football players, Tyler, leaned forward leering at her.

"Come on Caroline it's just a joke."

"I don't find it funny. And I'm sure he doesn't either." Klaus was frozen where he sat, unable to speak, unable to look away from the glorious girl beside him.

"Why does it matter, the kids a geek?" Lockwood drawled.

"My father has a speech impediment, and I doubt you'd be thrilled if I decided to start making joke about something you couldn't help. Like what a terrible tight end you are."

Lockwood's jaw dropped. He sputtered.

Caroline gave the poor kid a sarcastic smile. "Oh wait, you can help that can't you?"

And echoing chorus of Oooooooooooh's surrounded from the other classmates as Lockwood flushed and sat forward, his face set in a murderous line.

Mr. Saltzman finally stepped in, putting a stop to the nonsense and trying to steer them back towards the battle of Gettysburg. "That's enough."

Caroline gave him a soft smile. The kindest he'd ever seen and his heart stuttered in his chest. As far as stutter's go, he didn't seem to mind that one. He couldn't speak, just nodded a little, and finally when he was done putting the final touches on the twisting tornado he was penning he scrawled a quick note across it and slid it to her.

All it said was Thank you.

She beamed at him.

And that's how Klaus Mikaelson fell arse over tea kettle in love.

Things went up for Caroline after that. She was gorgeous, incredibly gorgeous, and it wasn't long before she was attracting attention from everyone. She was elected Miss Mystic Falls, head of the cheer squad, all things to line her college application with enough extra-curriculars that she could go anywhere. But that was never what attracted Klaus to her, sure she was beautiful, and smart and popular. But she was kind to everyone, fiercely protective, she was insanely smart, organized, and most of all she was talented. And try as he might to dissolve from her attention she never forgot about him. Bouncing up to him and asking for his help on art work for school posters, for help with campaigns. She offered to pay him, but he'd never accept it, and though he couldn't manage a clear sentence to her when he spoke to her, she never rushed him. Never laughed at him.

He had thought that she was one of those girls that simply joined the drama club because that was what attractive girls were supposed to do. He had been building the sets for the towns plays for a good four years now, so when she walked up on stage, her hands shaking slightly to audition for the lead role in The Wiz he paid it no mind. He continued on with the painting of the Wiz's throne, letting her shuffle lightly as the music started. Then she opened her mouth.

And he heard her sing.

Dear god, if he thought he was in love with her before.

She got the part. Of course she did. They struck up a tentative friendship after that. She'd always light up when she saw him on set, bustling over to ask him about his day and the sets and if he'd help her rehearse lines.

He almost thought… well he almost thought that she might like him.

Despite the fact that she was dating Matt sodding Donovan.

So here he was, at a place he swore he would not be, waiting for a girl who probably didn't even remember he existed.

He caught site of her when she entered. In fact he was pretty sure the entire room stopped and watched her scanning the crowd.

His breath caught in his throat. He felt the words well up within him, just like they always were, broken, jagged. Stuttered.

This was a mistake. This was a huge mistake. He had to get out of here.

He turned setting his drink on one of the tables, hoping to slip out of one of the side entrances and claiming that he had another engagement to be getting too.

He turned, chancing one more look at her. One look so that he could remember the girl had been a friend to him when he had no one but family.

His eyes met hers.

She was grinning.

His feet were cemented to the wood of the gym floor.

She moved through the crowd, it parted as she walked her heels clicking against the ground. Body glad in a gorgeous white dress, curls framing her face, Yellow cardigan over her shoulder. And she was looking at him.

She was sunshine. Even in the dead of night.

"Klaus!" She said when she finally got close enough to him. She didn't stop, instead moving forward and pulling him into a hug. It took him a moment to recover from his initial shock to wrap his arms around her. She smelled like Vanilla and Honeysuckle.

"Caroline." The words came out fluid. Perfect. Her grin brightened.

Then it dropped as she smacked him on the shoulder.

He recoiled.

"You graduated and didn't even say goodbye to me!? I thought I had a whole other year of you refusing to take money from me and I come back and find out you were a senior the whole time."

He let himself smile. His stomach filling with warmth.

"My apologies sweetheart. How can I ever make amends?"

"I wouldn't mind dinner while you're in town. If you aren't busy." The words were soft, and dare he say a little shy.

And he be damned if he'd keep her waiting any longer than he had.

"I'm famished. How does now sound?"

She moved, hooking her arm in the crook of his elbow and motioning towards the door.

She didn't answer.

She didn't have to.


End file.
